Gen X6 4 The Trouble With Trios
by Cat Carroll
Summary: A few bored Manticorelings. Some daring robberies. What could go wrong? When the answer becomes EVERYTHING, the family must race to save their wayward kids.
1. Shiny Things

Gen X-6 (4) – The Trouble With Trios

Rated:  PG-13

Disclaimer: I still have the '81 Corolla.  I am *this* close to claiming credit for the concept of Dark Angel, Manticore, and all of the show's characters in hopes that the car will be taken as settlement.  Until such time, they all belong to James Cameron.  All other characters are mine.  To answer a question that I have been asked, if you want to archive this story or series on a website, then please let me know.  It will probably be fine as long as I receive credit for writing it, and it is not intended for profit.  Unless of course, this encourages Mr. Cameron to sue for custody of the Corolla.  In that case, we will discuss.

A/N:  This is the fourth story in the Gen X-6 saga.  For new readers, you really REALLY need to read the first three stories.  This one is way off from the series, trust me on that, but I think you'll like it.  It's been rather fun to write so far, and a lot less angsty than the last installment was.  For the faithful that keep coming back for more, I'm glad to see you have returned.  I am such a review junkie and I love hearing from you guys.  Well, I will shut up now and let you get on with the story.  Ta! – Cat

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It was quiet.  That nice kind of quiet that said all was well, and there was nothing to differentiate this night from thousands of others.  The tapping footsteps of the museum guards and the light hum of the environmental systems were the only sounds to break the tomb-like silence.  At three in the morning in the heart of a German museum, silence was a good thing.  Silence was normal.  A silent night meant that nothing was wrong.  Usually.

Periodically, the environmental system would get a little louder as it dumped harmful contaminants from its system.  On this night as the system purged, the sound covered the entrance of a far worse contaminant.  The guards suspected nothing.  The security system was state-of-the-art to say the least, and if anything was disabled, the alarm would go off, locking down the entire museum.  Nothing seemed wrong at all.  They hadn't noticed the line of static that had slipped across the monitor screens for less than a second.

The person who was waiting for the static heard it loud and clear.  She smiled beneath her ski mask.  This was beautiful.  Janna had said she could do it.  She had never met a security system she couldn't beat.  This had been a real challenge, but they had faith in her, and she hadn't let them down.

A hundred yards down the air vent, her partner waited.  As soon as she heard the static, she glanced up at him.  They were perfect partners.  No words were needed to communicate.

(she's going to be pissed...the dark-haired one is really cute)

A decisively male voice echoed in her head, replying back to their joke.

(this is why she's not allowed to go...all clear?)

(we have assumed control...she's getting so good it's scary)

(you owe me twenty bucks now)

(bite me)

His laughter echoed in her mind as they separated.  It was better to take two separate routes than have them both go together.  Trial and error had taught them the best way to get around ventilation shafts.  The layout of the museum was etched into both of their minds making navigation a simple exercise.  Within minutes they were at the rendezvous point.

There wasn't a guard in the room that housed a heartbreakingly beautiful collection of gemstones.  Guards could be distracted or fall asleep or even bribed.  Instead, a laser-beam grid covered the floor, but not in the usual square pattern.  This was far more complex with circles and waved lines that were invisible to the naked eye.  They were also on a separate circuit that could not be accessed by an outside source.  Whoever had designed the museum's security was clever.  The motion detectors were on one circuit, with the laser on another.  If one were taken, the other would still be in place.  What they didn't count on was one being taken and the other out-maneuvered.

The pair of thieves regarded the lasers as more fun than a problem.  It was becoming harder and harder to find a decent challenge anymore.  This was still fun though.  They both reached into a small pouch on their belts and pulled out a small pair of lenses.  They looked like sunglasses without the ear bends.  Except these allowed for infrared vision.  The room took on the cool blue and green tones of infrared while the lasers glared out an angry yellow and orange in comparison.  They weren't hot enough to feel on the skin, but now the thieves could see the pattern clearly.  This was going to be tight, but still very doable.

(you ready?)

The simultaneous question made them both laugh mentally.  They nodded at each other, and then he opened the vent cover that Janna had so graciously deactivated the alarm on.  As soon as it was removed, she slid into position, balancing just on the edge of the vent, both of their hearing perked for the slightest sound of a problem.  Most of the reason they were so good was that they hadn't gotten cocky.  Confident, yes, but not cocky.  All things considering, if you were careful and not greedy, getting caught was a remote possibility.

Her hands wrapped around his wrists and he lowed her down, their bodies moving in a perfect synch so that he would be hanging by his legs, and she would be dangling, keeping perfectly still.  Times like this made them both wish for a dash of their sister's ability, but that wasn't going to happen.  Miss Law and Order would never consider helping them no matter what the profit margin looked like.

The ceiling was about twelve feet high, but she only had to fall a few feet from the position they were in.  Most people would still have to take a step from a drop like that.  She wasn't most people.  She took a deep breath, and then planned the moves.  Her leg muscles flexed smoothly, and then with a series of flips and jumps, she twisted through the laser maze easily, moving with an easy coordination that any athlete would pray for.  Her final back flip landed her inches from the target.  Perfect.  She signaled she was fine and her partner pulled himself back into the shaft to prepare the equipment.

The sapphire was exquisite.  Even without lights, it hadn't lost that blue-green flicker in its heart that only the best had.  Hell, even without the flicker, it was a beautiful stone, larger than a man's fist, and absolutely flawless.  Granted, it wasn't worth as much as a diamond of lesser quality would be, but their client was very eager to have it, and from what he was paying, they were quite eager to provide it to him.

Planning had taken some time, but it was all paying off now.  She looked back where her partner was still hanging.  Trial and error had taught them that the best positioning was for one to stay back and be ready to get the other out if a situation went bad.  Whoever was best suited went in, and in this case, the better gymnast was going to be needed.  She was smaller and would fit better in the tight patterns.  It was a scary feeling to be out there all on your own, but backup was just a thought away for them.

Her hand raised, and a dull hiss of a carbon dioxide canister firing reached her ears.  A fraction of a second later her fingers snapped shut around a staff that had been fired at her.  She grinned.  Neat trick if you could pull it off.  She touched the edge of the staff carefully to the floor, and small legs popped out to balance it.  She looked back up and nodded.  A small bag slid down the nylon cord that had followed the staff that was keeping the cord high enough to not activate the lasers.  She grabbed the bag before it could go too low and pulled out the small device inside.  It looked like a pressure cooker with a glove built in, and in a way, it was.  A blue piece of glass the size and shape of the sapphire was already inside of the device.

The sapphire was housed in a cylindrical casing so that it could be admired from all angles.  The only deal was that inside the glass was pressurized.  If the pressure changed, then alarms would go off.  Janna hadn't been able to find the access to that system.  Creativity was going to be needed.  A little research got them the name of the manufacturer of the casing.  Then it was amazing how nice they were when they were called to discuss security for a tour the Crown Jewels of London were soon going to be going on.  Credentials of the young man were impeccable, and so they were quite pleased to talk to him.  After questioning how the glass didn't break with the different inside and outside pressure, he got the pressure rate within the chamber.

Now at the museum, she attached the device to the glass, set the pressure, and waited until the green light came on, trusting that he had managed to get all the right information.  It was a lot of faith to place in another person, and probably why most partnerships failed.  You couldn't trust each other.  Well, they had a special bond, and she knew without a doubt that he wouldn't screw her over to get out if anything went sour.  It was all or nothing with them.

(going to start cutting now, be ready)

(you know where i'll be) 

She slid her hand into the glove, feeling the pressure against her skin.  Her heart was beating faster as it always did at the critical moment, adrenaline flowing through her bloodstream.  This was the most dangerous moment.  If you got too keyed up, you could make a major mistake, but it was impossible to be calm and collected.  Maybe one day she would be, but right now, she had to concentrate on staying steady and doing things properly.

The glove had a laser cutter installed on the tip.  She pressed the start, and made the first low incision into the glass.  She paused as it was breached.  Nothing.  All was quiet.  There was a low feeling of electrostatic when a silent alarm went off, but she couldn't feel anything.  She was too well experienced to breathe a sigh of relief though.  Anything could happen.  That was the prime rule of this business.

(all quiet?)

(can't hear anything up here)

The reassurance helped.  She finished cutting a hole large enough to put her hand through, and lifted the sapphire off of its pedestal.  Because of the pressurization, there wasn't a way to add a sensor so that it would detect if the sapphire were removed.  Carefully, she placed the sapphire in the chamber, and placed the blue glass on the pedestal.  That should keep anyone from noticing it was missing once security was turned back over to the guards.  The glass was replaced and after a slight setting change, the laser was used to weld it back into place.  They had done several dry runs, and it had held the pressure, but you never could be certain what would happen in real life.  Her mouth dry, she released the pressure in the device and waited.  Quiet.  Nothing.  Now a smile spread out under her mask.  This was the good stuff in life.

She slipped the sapphire and device back into the bag and held up the cord.  This was the tricky part.  He slid it back up the rope and secured it without problems, but getting the rope and staff back was going to be a matter of fast moves.  They looked at each other, nodded, and then she tossed the rope into the air as high as she could.

In the vent, he pulled as fast as he could, his hands blurred as he pulled in the rope fast enough to get it to dangle above the lasers.  This was always the point they'd fouled up on in practice, but practice never got that shot of adrenaline into the system like the real thing did.  The rope swung back towards the floor, the bottom arc of the pendulum about six inches above the lasers.  They both breathed a sigh of relief at that.  He pulled the rest of the rope in, and then swung back down so that he was upside down again.

She hoisted the staff, ignoring his mental tease to not throw like a girl, and then threw it at him, javelin-style.  They had practiced that a million times, and it was a technique they'd used more than once in live runs.  He caught it easily, putting it into the shaft, and then waited.  Her turn.  She simply repeated the pattern she'd used to get there and moved like liquid to get through to where he was waiting.  She jumped high, catching his wrist, and he pulled them into the vent.

It took a matter of seconds to get themselves back together.  The vent cover was replaced, the staff was compacted down to portable size, cord rewound.  And both took a second to admire their prize.  Some people might think their client was insane for paying them what he was for retrieval, but up close, it might just be worth it.  The stone was beautiful.

Getting out took no time at all.  In a matter of minutes they were meeting back up on the roof, climbing out of the environmental controls as it purged itself again.  They both took off at a dead run, moving almost too fast to even be seen by the human eye.  They darted across the building, taking a second to make sure the street below was clear, and then dropped the three stories to the pavement below, taking off once again.

"Remote to base," he called, keying his headset and using the radio for the first time since they went silent.

"Base here," came the feminine reply.

"We have the target, heading to the rendezvous site now."

"Copy that remote.  All is on schedule.  Will meet you at Tango point."

"Tango point.  Remote out."

They both sped off to where a dark green van was parked in a narrow alley.  By the time they got there, it was empty, with nothing but some highly incriminating equipment inside.  Both of them hastily stripped off their clothes, shoving them into plastic and pulling out clean ones from other plastic bags.  No incriminating fibers would be on them from ski masks and the like.  They both got dressed, and then took off again, leaving most of the equipment behind.  The expensive stuff was already removed from the van, and as soon as they left, they would activate charges beneath the van.  Ten minutes later, the only evidence the police would get was a pile of burned metal.

Her blouse was rather loose, and she always felt awkward with the too-large bra with the falsies inside.  They looked rather real, except was had a compartment inside large enough to hide a certain sapphire.  It wouldn't pass through customs, but it was enough for now.  They took off quickly, moving over rooftops and across buildings.  Twenty minutes later, they were ambling down a side street where there were plenty of bars, looking like any normal couple enjoying their vacation to Germany like the hundreds of people around them.  A little beer and bratwurst, and this were just nothing unusual.

A familiar car pulled up at the stoplight right on time, and they shot each other a grin as they moved quickly to their partner's car.  A feminine thought echoed in his mind.

(we are so damn good)

Cameron Raleigh glanced down at his twin and grinned, putting his arm around her shoulder.  "Liz…we're the fucking best."


	2. Miss Law and Order

Heather crouched low, waiting for the order to go. This was the part that required nerves of steel. Going in was such organized chaos that you were too busy to realize what you were really doing. The waiting was the hard part. A thousand scenarios ran through her mind with all of the different possibilities. Anything could happen on a bust. That was just the nature of the business. All the planning in the world could be thrown out of whack by a single unexpected detail. Most twenty-three year olds weren't required to have nerves of steel. She wasn't most. And this was becoming what she lived for.  
  
She was assigned to the roof, so that when the other agents went in, anyone that was flushed up, thinking they could jump to the roof of the next building and escape that way would run into her and Agent Baker. The agent heading up the operation was a little worried that there were only going to be two agents up there, and although it wasn't said, one of the agents was a woman, there simply weren't enough to spare. Heather wasn't worried, but she could hardly tell them why.  
  
The bust itself was a joint venture between the DEA and FBI. It was the culmination of an undercover operation that had lasted nearly two years. Not easy, but this was going to be big. Huge, in fact. The field agents hadn't thought they were going to get to be involved considering all of the national agents that had shown up, but there was a request for a few field agents by name, and Special Agent Heather Raleigh, FBI, was at the top of the list. She was young, but she had already made a name for herself in how she handled suspects. Size might intimidate some female agents, but she never flinched.  
  
The roof had a couple of air conditioner units about fifteen feet from the only door to the roof, and Heather and Baker were each crouched behind one, waiting for the bust to begin. There was supposed to be crack and heroin in there with a street value of over three million dollars, plus guns and cash. This was big. This was just what her application to the Hostage Rescue Team needed. It was a little late for that, but there was next year.  
  
"Alpha team, go!" Agent Brenner's voice came over their earpieces. "Bravo, cover the secondary. Charlie, be ready!"  
  
Heather caught Baker's eye and they both pulled out their guns at once. Baker was DEA, but she wasn't holding that against him. He was a tough agent from what she had seen, and if he couldn't handle himself, he certainly wouldn't have this assignment. Both of them were mentally counting out seconds, knowing how every inch of the bust was going to be going. They had planned and rehearsed it so many times; Heather had caught herself dreaming about it.  
  
A minute later the door to the roof exploded open, a suspect flying through, but facing backwards. Both agents leapt out from their hiding places, Heather's reflexes letting her get out just a bit faster.  
  
"FBI!" she yelled firmly, ignoring Baker's slight grimace. He'd wanted to announce 'DEA' first. "Hands in the air now!" she added.  
  
The suspect whipped around, the sight making both agents gasp. He had a gun to the head of a young girl. She seemed to be about ten years old and was most definitely terrified. Heather mentally cursed. The place was supposed to have been checked for civilians. Maybe she was a dealer's kid or sister or something like that.  
  
"Let the girl go and drop your weapon!" Baker shouted. He was concentrating on the suspect so much; he didn't notice how his partner's eyes half closed, the lids blinking together rapidly.  
  
If the agents had appeared stunned to see the suspect burst through the door with a hostage, it was nothing compared to the look of utter shock on his face when his arm suddenly jerked back and up, effectively pointing the gun into the empty air above them. Neither agent wasted a second. Baker grabbed the suspect, taking him to the ground hard as Heather grabbed the girl, whipping her around, and both of them hitting the concrete, Heather's body protecting the child's. Heather had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She had learned how to use her abilities more effectively in the last several years, and simply making an arm lift wasn't hard at all to do. Much easier than pulling a gun from someone's hands in fact, and it didn't cause a headache.  
  
Heather looked up in time to see two more suspects explode from the rooftop door. They fired several shots down the stairs, and turned, running hard, and firing a few more wild shots behind them. Heather ducked back low again, a bullet chipping the bricks slightly to her right. That was too damn close! She glanced back at Baker.  
  
"Giving chase!" she shouted, and took off at a dead run after them. She couldn't run all out; hell she'd pass the suspects if she did that, but she could move fast, and when they jumped to the next rooftop, there was no problem in her following them easily.  
  
"Charlie One," she heard Baker say into the communications system, "one suspect in custody, Charlie Two is giving rooftop chase to two more. We have a rescued hostage up here." Heather caught the slightly smug tone. He knew the suspects were going to jump to the next rooftop. There was no way Heather would be able to follow, and he wasn't going to leave this suspect with the child, even with him in handcuffs. Alpha and Bravo were going to have to get them, not her. He didn't know anything.  
  
She hit the ledge of the building, pushing off of the concrete and clearing to the next building easily. The suspects were already halfway across the roof. Damn it, what the hell was Alpha and Bravo doing down there to let three suspects get away? Oh well. Gave her a little something to play with. She let herself take off at a full run, catching up to the slower of the two suspects before he could notice that she was on the roof with him.  
  
One hand reached out, and grabbed him by the neck, shoving him hard, and flinging him to the ground like a rag doll. His gun went skidding across the rooftop, and Heather was on him in a fraction of a second, grabbing his wrist to flip him over. He grabbed at her, trying to pull her down to the concrete. No way a woman would be able to get back up after he pounded on her a few times. He caught her arm and jerked hard, expecting to toss her over him easily. He might not be a big guy, but he could bench two hundred pounds easily, and she wasn't nearly that big.  
  
He got her to move, but it wasn't like he thought it would be. Her arm twisted in his, and suddenly she was holding onto his right arm, yanking him up as she did some sort of flip over him. They were suddenly both on their feet, and before he could even think, her booted foot came up and kicked him hard in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him, and then slamming again in his head. He dropped back to the ground, not quite unconscious, but enough of the fight had gone out of him.  
  
Heather got him on his stomach easily, and handcuffed him, taking the extra second to cuff his ankles together as well. With nobody able to see what she was doing, her hands moved at almost inhuman speeds, and then she was back to her feet again, going after the last suspect, and relaying her position and where the suspect she had in handcuffs was to base command. She loved the disbelief in the operator's voice as he echoed her information. It was great to be underestimated sometimes.  
  
She raced across the next roof, jumping to the third without even thinking about it. The third suspect was nowhere to be seen. She paused, letting her ears pick up on the faintest sounds. Metallic clinking. Fire escape! She glanced across the roof. The next building was too far to jump to. Well, too far for some. Heather grinned and took off running. She hit the edge of the building and saw the suspect had just hit the street level, and was off running again. She leapt over the edge of the building, landing on the next roof easily. Had to get in front of the suspect.  
  
She moved fast enough to be a blur to anyone else that might be watching, crossing the roof, and just pausing enough to make sure there wasn't anyone in the alley below her. It was only about three stories down, and she jumped off the side, landing in a crouch, and springing forward, sprinting out of the alley.  
  
The third suspect liked his anonymity. Most people thought the gang leader was someone else, but in truth it was he. Even the narcs that got into the deal didn't know that. He had managed to get out of there because his people knew that if he got out, he would get them out later. Well, he wouldn't bother with most of them, because they weren't worth it, but there was one or two that he was going to need later. Just up ahead was a car and once he got there, he was home free. He knew where to lie low and then it was going to be back to business as usual. He grinned triumphantly, and that was when the little redhead that had been chasing them stepped right out from the alley, her gun already drawn and aimed.  
  
"FBI!" she shouted, freezing him in his tracks. But…but she had been behind him! There was no way. No way at all! "Hands in the air now!" she ordered. He would have resisted, but there was something in her tone that said she wasn't afraid of him in the slightest, and that she wasn't afraid to pull the trigger. When you spent time with killers, you knew what a person who could kill sounded like. They sounded like her. That was the problem with a woman cop. They could shoot you and not have to answer to a review board like a man would because of all that "it takes less to put them in mortal danger" crap.  
  
It took only a matter of a minute, and suspect three was in custody. Heather was breathing hard, but she couldn't keep out that tiny bit of triumph as she called in that Charlie Two had number three in custody. A minute later, three other agents arrived with transport, all of them congratulating her on catching him. No big deal. He wasn't a big guy or anything. He was just the one talking to the Columbians, not the guy who had been giving the orders to the peons. They had him on tape where the CIA had graciously tapped the phone lines somewhere in South America for them. Heather had no idea about that, although she wondered if Xander or Janice might know, but she was glad they were giving her credit for catching him. She had done the work, but a lot of times senior agents would grab the glory.  
  
It wasn't like they could anyways. A freelance reporter had been alerted to the bust, and had arrived just as she stepped out of the alley. His cameraman caught the peaceful arrest right on film. Not sensational like he wanted, but it was right by the book and when played on the national networks, the FBI was shining like a diamond. Heather wasn't going to have to buy her own drinks for a week when she went out with the guys.  
  
That night, Heather watched it on the news, and grinned to herself. Mom had first sounded pissed when she called Heather earlier. What if a news helicopter had been there instead of a street crew? Heather told her a little more about the planning and the hostage and Mom had sighed and said she was very proud of her. Dad asked about HRT and if this would help, but Heather didn't know yet. She hoped so. Both of her parents were impressed how she could blend her inhuman abilities within the confines of her career. They were a little worried about her career choice at first, but now they were both very proud of her. She never had to use her family connections, and was climbing the ladder easily on her own. Maybe not easily, but she was doing it on her own.  
  
Heather flipped to another channel and watched the tape of the takedown again. She picked up her scotch and soda and toasted the small figure on the screen. "Agent Raleigh," she said softly, "you are the fucking best." 


	3. Making a Deal

The three men entered the hotel suite in Paris, not showing the slightest sign of outward tension. One of them was totally unconcerned, while another was very stressed about his boss's safety. Of course his job was to be stressed about safety and he got paid quite well to be stressed. He also knew that if something happened to his boss, then his life expectancy might extend out about five minutes past the demise of the boss. It was a motivating factor that no corporation could figure out to harness for their employees. The third man was more concerned about the safety of the boss's money than the boss's body. He had researched for nearly two months to find the best for the job that needed to be done, and this was the result. His boss trusted him to find the right person, and if the boss lost money on the job, then his life expectancy was quite small. All in all, he felt highly motivated to make sure before the deal was struck that all bases were covered.  
  
The door opened silently, and they were all aware of the young man and woman on either side of it as it snapped shut behind them. They couldn't have been more twins if you stamped a sign on their foreheads. Both of them were blondes with very similar features, and wearing identical dark blue silk suits, although hers was femininely tailored, and her shirt beneath was a white lace number rather than his dress shirt. The men were used to seeing quality, and knew that they weren't looking at off-the-rack clothing. The twins were absolutely quiet, but watching everything carefully. It was slightly nerve-wracking, but the men were used to such situations.  
  
The person they were here to see was sitting on the couch across the room. There was a tea service on the glass table in front of her, and a phone. Two matching chairs were on the other side of the table. The woman sitting there rose from her seat, smiling warmly at them. Her dark brown curls ran in a playful riot around her face and shoulders, and her dark eyes held a rather pleased expression. She was extremely attractive to all of the men, her off-white suit looking professional, but still showing her rather appealing figure.  
  
"Good afternoon gentlemen," she greeted, her French accent gentle on the ear and adding a charming touch to her whole appearance. "I am Jaqui," she introduced, holding her hand out delicately to the lead man. "It is very nice to finally get to meet you in person, Monsieur Southwood."  
  
"As with you," he replied, his accent marking him as British. Neither of them was fooled. They could really be French and British or Russian, Italian, American or German. It didn't matter. Polite fiction could be maintained for the sake of business. He glanced around. "Your clients normally wait by the door?" he asked.  
  
She gave a little laugh. "No, Monsieur, my clients do not attend such meetings. My associates by the door are personal employees of mine. My clients are on the phone as we speak." Southwood glanced at the phone, and she added, "They will only speak to me in private. They are rather concerned for their privacy as you can imagine. They will listen in, and then we shall speak and I will let you know if they accept your proposal."  
  
She could tell the Southwood didn't exactly like the idea, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He wanted their services. He had to play on their rules for now. The system they had devised was for their protection, not the client's pleasure.  
  
"Well then, I certainly hope that your clients are worth such odd measures," he commented, the threat implied subtle, yet obvious.  
  
She didn't flinch. She was used to such statements. If he tried anything then he would learn just how special her "personal employees" were. It was really helpful when your partners would know that the other guy was about to make a move before he even twitched. It was actually pretty amusing if one cared to think about it.  
  
"Monsieur," she replied, "My clients are nothing short of spectacular."  
  
Southwood gave her a curt nod and then gestured to the man on his right. "This is Mr. Bentley," he introduced. "He researched and found that you would be the best to provide us with the services that we require. He was the man that initially contacted you." He didn't introduce the third man, which was the entire introduction that was needed. Bentley might do some talking, but the other one was muscle if needed. Jaqui loved being underestimated. She sat down on the couch, and Bentley and Southwood sat down in the chairs across from her. The unnamed man took up a position near the window close to them. With grace and delicacy she poured the three of them a cup of tea before getting to the heart of the meeting.  
  
"Now, Monsieur," she said, "you wished to meet to discuss a job that you would like performed for you. We are now meeting. Monsieur Bentley did not give me any details in our correspondence." This had to be important to him to be handling so personally. Most men in his position wouldn't want any witnesses to know that he had given an order like this. Of course, worst case scenario, there wouldn't be any witnesses left to testify.  
  
"It would seem that the Italian Conte di LiCossa has a piece of property that in effect belongs to me," Southwood replied bluntly.  
  
He's American, Jaqui thought. Europeans dance about a bit more. Americans cut straight to the heart of the matter. Not as delicate, but wastes less time. "I can see how that would be a problem to you," she commented casually, then taking a sip of her tea. "Am I to assume this piece of property is rather valuable?"  
  
Bentley flipped open the attaché case beside him and pulled out a picture. One perfectly plucked and shaped eyebrow lifted as Jaqui looked at the picture. She thought the sapphire that they had just delivered was beautiful? This was exquisite, and it was just a picture. "One also assumes this is not rhinestones," she said, her smile taking on a slightly teasing note.  
  
"No," Southwood replied. "I would not want it if it was fake. The fact of the matter is that it is over four hundred years old, and belongs to my family, not the Conte's. A court would not even entertain letters written hundreds of years ago to prove ownership. My ancestors tried to negotiate for it's return, but none of them were able to. I am a man of action, and I simply want what is mine." He drank his tea, his eyes meeting hers unwaveringly. He seemed to be telling the truth. Maybe he was. She would know for sure in a few minutes.  
  
"What do you know of the security there?" she asked. "My clients have no problems in righting a wrong, but there would be those that have a problem with their methods. Some would say their methods were even criminal. They do not want to be punished for helping someone in need."  
  
"It's extremely good," Bentley answered. He pulled out some sheets of paper and handed it to her for quick perusal. Damn, "extremely" didn't come close to describing it. They had a radio wave detector that would let them know if someone was using radio communications around them, like what the trio normally used when they were lifting something. That was just the start of security. Can we say paranoid? She looked again at the picture of the diamond necklace. They had a reason to be. She wished they could do greed just once. She would love to own something that beautiful.  
  
Jaqui quietly hung up the phone, and then stood, the two men rising with her. "I shall call back my clients from the other room and discuss this with them," she said. "If you will excuse me for a moment, I shall be back in just a moment." She turned to leave, and the young woman by the door finally moved, following her quietly. The man remained at her post, still saying nothing, yet observing all. Southwood's thought that the twins must be the thieves was dispelled. There was no way a man of that caliber would just stay there and let his sister make the decisions for him. No, they were just bodyguards, and it was better that the man keep an eye out over the men.  
  
In the other room, they flicked on some sound bafflers just to make sure nobody could hear them. Cam would let them know if someone went to the door, but you never knew how voices carried in a hotel like this. Janna plopped down at the desk while Liz sat, cross-legged, on the bed. "What did you get?" Janna asked.  
  
"He's really good at hiding thoughts," Liz replied. "All three of them are, actually. But he was lying about the necklace being his."  
  
(there's something he's mixed up in with the mafia and money…not sure exactly what it is; it's still hidden, but he wants it for money and not aesthetic reasons, that's for sure)  
  
Cameron's thought rippled into Elizabeth's mind as he "listened" in on their conversation through her. She held up a finger to Janna to let her know that she was talking to her brother. Janna was used to such exchanges, and waited patiently. She let the two of them "read" her while getting information from prospects, so they knew the target and what they were going up against already.  
  
(well, duh…we both know that, but there's something else there that i don't like that i can't put my finger on…he's not telling the whole truth, maybe that's part of it)  
  
(there's something wrong with this whole deal…how much is he paying us)  
  
Liz repeated the question to Janna. She normally waited until after they got the facts before telling the twins what it was worth. If money wasn't clouding their judgment, they made better choices. Janna had no doubt that she could figure out a way to get around the security, but they were the ones actually going in. It was their call, and they had refused several commissions. Maybe that was what had made them so popular.  
  
Janna named the figure. The fee, plus some expenses they would get back. Liz blinked. Cameron blinked. That was more money then they had gotten for their last two jobs together. So the guy had some problems with the Mafia. Big deal. He couldn't be that short on cash if he was willing to pay them. Maybe there was more to it, but who cared. For the most part, private collectors that just wanted something very special, for personal pleasure, had contracted them. Whatever Southwood's reasons were, the fee was, well, enough to make them overlook those little doubts. Liz asked her brother about a little test.  
  
(if he doesn't freak about how long we'll need to prep for the job?)  
  
(true…if he gives us the time to do it right, then he's probably enough on the level…we know he's not a cop)  
  
"Okay," Liz said to Janna. "We'll do it, but it's going to take several weeks to prep for it. If he tries to push us, then we back out of the whole deal."  
  
Janna nodded. "Good thinking. Maybe I'm getting some blowback from you guys reading his mind, but he's really got my hackles up." She almost hoped that he would protest and insist that they make delivery in a matter of days. Then that would be something other than this nebulous feeling in the pit of her stomach that would make her refuse the contract all together.  
  
They got up and turned off the sound bafflers. Liz resumed her subservient position, and opened the door for her cousin, and then went back to her post. It was funny to her to watch Janna become Jaqui. Her whole posture changed and she went from casual and playful to elegant and sophisticated in the blink of an eye. Funny. But men noticed. Their eyes were usually stuck to her butt the whole time she was in one of those classy little suits.  
  
"Gentlemen," Jaqui said, sounding quite pleased. "My clients accept your proposal. The fee I discussed with Mr. Bentley will be adequate for them, however, as I said to him that does not include getting your property out of the country. I shall deliver it to you anywhere in the country, but I will not remove it beyond the borders."  
  
"That is satisfactory," Southwood said, seeming a bit relaxed that they were going to take the job. "When can I expect to receive my property?"  
  
"I would expect delivery in six to seven weeks," Jaqui answered, waiting for the explosion.  
  
His faced immediately flushed red with anger. "Six weeks!"  
  
"Possibly seven," she said calmly.  
  
He shot Bentley a harsh glance, who paled under the withering look. "I was under the impression that I could have my property quickly."  
  
"Monsieur," she said in a soothing tone, "Such things only happen in the movies. In real life, there is a great deal of preparation that goes into such a contract. My clients have to find out how to deal with the security in advance, and then do the dry runs to make sure all is well. I assure you sir that the time they take to prepare will be well worth it. It is the reason why they are so good at what they do. They make sure they will do it right so that neither you nor they are ever exposed."  
  
He mulled that over for a moment. "When do you expect your fee then?" he questioned. She had already discussed this with Bentley, but he wanted to know why he was going to have to pay now. Jaqui had heard this before. She would again.  
  
"My clients require half as a retainer," she answered. "That way they can properly prepare and do all that is required to ensure that you will get your property. Mr. Bentley has been given a Swiss bank account number. When the money is deposited, you can expect your property in six to seven weeks. When I deliver the merchandise, there will be a computer with me, hooked to the account. When the rest of the money is deposited, then your property will be handed to you and we shall conclude our business. Is that a problem for you?"  
  
Southwood's jaw worked slightly. "No," he finally said. "I will have to trust that it is all worth the wait."  
  
Jaqui smiled. "Your property will be in hand by Christmas morning, Monsieur Southwood. You have waited four hundred years. What are a few more weeks to the spirits of your ancestors?"  
  
"Then I shall see you in a few weeks," he replied. "You will of course give me a date to have a representative in Italy?"  
  
"Oui," she answered. "Until then, I bid you aurevoir."  
  
Cameron opened the door, and the three men left. The door shut, and the twins both breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing from their stuff and formal postures. Janna sat back down and propped her feet up on the table, leaning back on the couch. The twins sprawled into the chairs across from her.  
  
"You know," Cam said, "after this I think we all deserve a long break."  
  
"Yeah," Janna replied. "Besides, Mom and Dad have been bugging me to come back to the States for a while. It would be nice to spend Christmas with the family and have a long visit. Long enough to remember why I don't live there anymore at any rate."  
  
Liz and Cam laughed. They loved their family, but it was so overwhelming at times. All of their parents believed they were just working menial jobs in Europe and spending some time getting out the restlessness before settling down. Heather and Daniel had picked careers easily, but the twins said that they just didn't know what they wanted. They weren't living off of the parents; so letting them have some time was probably good for them. Actually Dad had made the biggest protest about them being so far away, but surprisingly, Mom had come to their defense. She reminded him that they had spent a lot of time on their own, and that had made them stronger and more mature. Heather's career and Daniel's family had been the maturing factors they needed. With the twins undecided, let them have a little fun and be on their own.  
  
Janna, being an only child, had a little harder of a time. She had dropped out of college, and met up with her younger cousins in France. Her parents nearly had a stroke. Aunt Cindy ended up telling Max that she had raised a child just like herself, and the kid needed some freedom. Least she wasn't breaking into police headquarters looking for records for Eye's Only. They had grudgingly conceded that maybe this was good for her. She was actually a talented artist, but didn't have the patience to study and develop it in an academic setting. Studying it like this, by seeing the real works of art and studying the masters on her own might just be what she needed. She had done a few paintings while in Europe that had sold, and they all had to admit she was improving dramatically being on her own.  
  
In any case, they were ready for a vacation. It had been a while since they had been home, and it would be nice to see the family again. After this job, they could take a year off and it not have any impact on their finances. Well, they would probably get bored and go back to work in a few months, but for now it was nice to think about the long break they would be taking. 


	4. Promotion Time

"Agent Raleigh," Heather answered her phone. It had been two days since the bust and she was nothing short of swamped with work. Two other sister agencies had requested her for a jump team, and she still had her own work to do. At that moment she was a golden girl who could do no wrong. The only problem with being so high on a pedestal was that it was much too easy to be knocked off of it. She had noticed a couple of other agents that were not pleased with all of the attention she had gotten. Baker, being the senior agent, had filed the report on what happened on the roof, and it wasn't nearly as flattering to her as it could have been. He subtly suggested that she went running off, disobeying proper protocol, and it was luck that she brought the other two in. Luck had nothing to do with it. As Dad would have said, she planned her attack and carried it out with precision.  
  
It was inevitable that there would be some jealousy, but overall, most of the agents were quite pleased with what she had done. Last year, the infamous Dan Guevara of "The Truth" had written a rather scathing article about the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. It had a lot of people ducking and running for cover. Some of the fallout had hit the DEA and FBI as well, although that was more the BATF trying to spread the blame around. Getting such a heavy bust caught on tape, with everything done so perfectly, was a salve to the FBI in general and was proof that some of the things that had been said by lesser news organizations were a load of garbage.  
  
The article had been a little damaging on family lines as well, although that was something that the FBI would never know about. Heather had no idea it was coming until she bought the latest copy of "The Truth" like she did the first of every month. The BATF article was cover story. Everyone was reading it. Some of the other agents were laughing at the article because of how harsh it was on the rival agency, but Heather was doing all she could to not throw up. She knew that it was a matter of time before the blame game began. If anyone made the connection between her and Dan, then her career was over. She would be thought of as an "inside source" and not an agent. Nobody would ever trust her.  
  
Daniel learned that night that his baby sister had indeed inherited their mother's temper and the vocabulary Mom didn't think they knew she used when very angry. It took a lot to make Heather use a four-letter word, but she managed to insert them into other words as well as use them as adjectives, verbs, nouns, and adverbs. It was rather impressive. It was the first time they had really had a yelling match back and forth, and it wasn't pretty. In the end, Daniel had flat out told her that she was the only reason that the FBI and DEA wasn't part of the article. It would have been suspicious if the FBI had been left out, so he took them both out. Heather reminded him that there was a lot of other media without the integrity of "The Truth" that always jumped on a Truth article and made the extra unsubstantiated allegations, and this time, she was in the crossfire.  
  
It had taken them a while, but eventually they both calmed down. It helped Heather when Uncle Lon had done a little shielding, and Dan wasn't connected to Daniel, her brother. And the article did flush out some people that needed to be removed from the agencies. It was still embarrassing and caused a lot of headaches for those that were investigated without cause. Lesser media practically painted horns and a forked tail on some that were totally innocent. But eventually, the furor died down. It did between brother and sister as well, and this time Daniel promised that if he was going to write an article similar to that again, he would let her know in advance.  
  
The bust had helped with the FBI's image. However, Heather's phone had yet to stop ringing. Her cubicle was overflowing with paperwork that needed to be done, and she had a headache. Her boyfriend, a fellow agent, had his panties in a wad over the whole deal, and the last thing she needed was this call to add another stress in her life.  
  
"Section Chief Spencer would like to see you immediately," came the reply to Heather's greeting.  
  
Heather froze, recognizing the voice of Spencer's secretary. He wanted to see her? That could only mean one thing. He had already congratulated her on the bust. The only other option was that the Hostage Rescue Team selections had been made. Her heart rate sped up to the point where her pulse was almost visible. It was rare to get in your first time applying, and no woman had ever managed to breach their physical requirements, but the excitement at finally getting the results was flooding her whole system.  
  
"I'll be there in a few minutes," Heather said, trying to control the tremor of excitement in her voice. "Thank you."  
  
The line went dead, and she got up immediately, not wanting to suspense to last a second longer than it had to. The age restriction for being an FBI agent had been dropped years ago so that they could get the finest people right from college and train them properly. Heather had graduated in three years and a semester, and applied right away. She had been an agent for almost two years now, and applying to HRT had seemed a little arrogant to some of the others. It was expected that you stayed at your first assignment for four years before moving on. That was the rule for moving to another location, but HRT didn't have a set standard. It was whoever got in, got in.  
  
It wasn't easy to get in either. There were three parts, a physical test, written test and then an interview with a board consisting of the section chief over HRT, the leader of the HRT, and two senior agents on the team. Women had never been able to pass the physical test, and they could not lower the standards for them. After all, the standards in the field were the same for men or women. However, Heather had stunned them all when she had passed them all, beating out quite a few of the men as well. She placed in the upper third, but that was only because she didn't want it to be quite so obvious that she wasn't normal. She could have beaten them all. She was sure she had done well on the written, and she thought the interview went well. Now it was decision time.  
  
Heather took a deep breath, and straightened her suit before walking into the antechamber to Spencer's office. His secretary looked up, and smiled briefly, doing her best to hide her amusement at seeing the young agent's eagerness. "Agent Raleigh?" she confirmed.  
  
"Yes," Heather replied.  
  
"Agent Spencer will be with you in just a moment," she said. "Agent Pendleton got here first. If you'll have a seat, please."  
  
Heather sat down. Of course Ethan had gotten here before her. He probably ran the whole way. This competition thing was really starting to get to her, but there wasn't much she could do about it. She wasn't trying to compete with him. As a matter of fact, she was putting in her HRT papers when he told her that he had applied for it as well. They helped each other study for the test and encouraged each other. That was what lovers were supposed to do, or at least that's what Heather thought they were supposed to do.  
  
She really liked Ethan. When she first got here, he was funny and charming and helpful to a rookie agent. He had also been engaged. So they were friends for a while. Heather had dated in college, but frankly, few men had been able to measure up to Jon. She still missed him, and wished they had gone to school together rather than break up after their high school graduation. Granted, it saved their friendship to end the romantic ties, but she still missed him sometimes. She'd had a couple of affairs in college, but none lasted long, and from the start none gave her a feeling that this might be "the one". Fun yes, but not permanent. Certainly not a soul mate.  
  
Heather had gone out on some casual dates during her first year as an agent, but nothing serious. Then Ethan's fiancé had run off with some construction worker that was building her parent's new house. She came back six weeks later married and pregnant. Ethan was not amused. Heather had been seeing a guy she had met at a club for about two months, but when he cancelled three dates because his mother needed him, she realized this wasn't relationship material. So her and Ethan started hanging out together. And then it was more than hanging out. That was six months ago. Since they didn't work together directly, and he wasn't a supervisor, there wasn't a problem with agents dating as long as they were discreet at work.  
  
Things had been going well, but then all of a sudden little things started. It was like he was jealous of her success. He had been an agent two years longer than her, and hadn't had as much exposure as she had. Heather suspected Lon might have had something to do with it, but it was very, very subtle if anything. Now both her and Ethan were the two agents from the field office that applied for HRT, and EVERYTHING was suddenly a competition. They had studied together, but she was getting the feeling that it was more him trying to get more right answers than her rather than him learning the material. Men. She wished she could get over than whole sex with women thing, because lesbianism was starting to look like the best option.  
  
Spencer's door opened, and Ethan emerged, his expression glum. He saw her there, and it was obvious. "Sorry," she mouthed to him. He shrugged. Getting into HRT wasn't easy. There were four spots open this year. Two hundred people applied. Harsh odds.  
  
"I'll wait," he mouthed back, nodding towards the door to the hall. She gave him a quick nod, and rose, Spencer's secretary allowing her entrance into his office. If he didn't make it, what chance did she? He was more senior, and must have done as well as she did. Oh well. There was always next year.  
  
Section Chief Spencer was seated at his desk as the young agent entered his office. Raleigh had certainly proved her mettle in the last two years, and he was more than pleased to have her there. Her record was impressive as is. When she first got there, he was worried she might have a serious ego problem. Her high school record hadn't been all that impressive until someone attempted to kidnap her. Then she seemed to have become more focused, and determined to have a career in law enforcement. She had gone to Harvard and got a degree in criminology with a minor in business administration. That was a smart move for someone that intended to move up the ranks in the FBI and go into management positions.  
  
She had been accepted into the FBI Academy, and her personal and professional recommendations had been impressive to say the least. There were two CIA agents, including a higher-up in there that had signed off for her and given her a glowing review of an internship she had done there. Plus there was a workshop she attended that was given by Special Agent Lon Bryant who was very well respected. Only a few seniors in college were allowed to attend and she had been one of them and he had given her a rather high recommendation, which was rare for him. A top Army counter- terrorist specialist had signed off on Raleigh as being "exceptional under both mental and physical stress". Spencer didn't even need to mention a recommendation from a certain Air Force officer whose record was so classified that it had caused a personal call from the Director of the FBI himself when Spencer tried to access it. Not bad recommendations all in all. He would have loved to have such things backing him up as a young agent.  
  
Raleigh had learned quickly, volunteering for assignments that seemed dull, but were good learning experiences. Spencer had started to wonder if she ever slept. He once noted that she had been on an all-night surveillance after working all day and still came in on time the next morning. Strange. She was far from a brown-noser, though, and did extras for people she liked, not just the ones that would get her ahead. She was a solid agent with a good head on her shoulders. He was going to miss her.  
  
"Agent Raleigh," he greeted. "Please have a seat."  
  
Heather sat in one of the plush leather chairs across from his desk. Her file was open on his desk. She was trying so hard not to fidget. She wanted to grab him and scream for the yes or no, but that would be unprofessional.  
  
"We received the HRT results," Spencer said non-commitally. "Two hundred agents applied. Four got in. Those are some very, very tough odds. You were competing against the very best that the bureau had to offer. I want you to also understand that these results were already decided before the joint exercise that occurred this week."  
  
Heather felt her stomach sink. This was a great "you were good, but not good enough" speech. Maybe now Ethan would calm down and they could get back to where they had been. Maybe not. If it was going to take a professional setback to patch them up, maybe she didn't want to be with him anymore. God, how was she going to tell her family? It was expected that she succeed at everything. They all had. Everyone was top of the field, or at least heading there. Coming on the heels of her triumph, this was such a letdown for her. At least she had only told her parents and siblings that she was applying. Why was Spencer smiling?  
  
He half-rose and extended his hand out to her. "Congratulations, Agent Raleigh. You beat out the best of the best, and they're expecting you to begin training on Monday."  
  
For a second she could only blink at him, her entire system on overload. Then it started to sink in. She was in. FBI agents were known for their cool detachment, but there was no way to stop the grin from breaking out across her face as she took Spencer's hand, accepting the congratulatory shake. She was in! She was really going to do it!  
  
"Thank you sir!" she managed to get out.  
  
He smiled at her warmly. "I wasn't the one that got you in there. Do you realize that you tied for top honors on the written test? Two applicants got a perfect score. You'll actually be getting a complete breakdown of your testing later."  
  
"And they want me there Monday?" she practically breathed. It was already Thursday. The training facility was at Quantico in Virginia. That wasn't much time at all to get ready to leave Chicago. She had to go home and call her parents. And Daniel. Cole was going to freak when he learned she was going to be moving close to him. Maybe she would really make it a total surprise to her aunts and uncles out there and just show up.  
  
"Training is six weeks," he answered, settling back into his seat, as did she. "From what I hear, it makes the testing process look like a cakewalk." She nodded. She knew that from her own research, but she also knew that she hadn't gone all out in the testing either. "But I think you'll get through it," Spencer continued. "After that you'll have two weeks off to do whatever is required to move to Virginia permanently."  
  
He leaned forward, and gave her a rather piercing look, wanting to get her reaction in full. "You do realize that Agent Pendleton will not be transferring with you?"  
  
"I figured as much when he walked out of your office," Heather replied. She felt bad for Ethan, she really did, but this was the opportunity of a lifetime. If he really cared about her, he'd be thrilled and want her to take it. She would have for him.  
  
"I am aware that you and Agent Pendleton have a personal relationship," Spencer said, trying to be delicate about the matter. "Such things have been known to be an influence before."  
  
Heather knew what he wanted to hear. One of his agents making HRT reflected well on him as much as it did on her, and he wanted her to be there and complete the training. "Well, we certainly are far from marriage, or anything seriously committed like that," she replied. "Sir, this is the opportunity of my career and there is no way I'm turning it down for love or money."  
  
Spencer smiled at that. "In that case, I again congratulate you, and wish you the best of luck in your new endeavors."  
  
Heather recognized the dismissal, and stood quickly. "Thank you again sir," she said, and left the office quickly, feeling like she was floating more than walking. She actually did glance down once. Every now and them the kinesis would jump out there and she wouldn't notice she was using it. Her feet were on the floor, but her mind was in the clouds.  
  
She left the office, and the minute she saw Ethan's face, she knew it was over. There was no way to hide the fact she was thrilled. She had only beaten 196 other agents out for a position in the most elite organization the FBI had to offer. More would have applied, but you had to have three firm recommendations to even start the application process. And she had done it first time up to bat. There was no way she could hide being proud of herself when she had managed that one. He knew she had made it. And she knew they were over.  
  
His jaw clinched, eyes grew cold. "Don't look so damn surprised," he snapped. "You knew as soon as you passed the physical test you were in."  
  
Heather felt her feet hit the ground. She was expecting angry, but not this. "If you'll remember, that was only a third of the testing," she shot back. "I didn't know until five minutes ago how I did on the rest."  
  
Ethan snorted. "Like hell you did. You're the first woman to pass the physical test. It doesn't matter how lousy you did at the written and the interview because the equality crap says they had to admit you. They did have to let you in, but they don't have to keep you all the way through the training, you know."  
  
Heather crossed her arms, forcing herself to keep perfect control. Ethan liked being able to make people lose their tempers. It made him feel all the better about his self-control. "Like you could have done better than I did." He obviously didn't know about her score.  
  
"Let's see," he said, scratching his chin as if pondering a question. "You admitted you only studied with me. And when we studied, it was mostly you quizzing me. Spencer told me I was number nine in the written results. You had to have done worse. When we worked out together, you just barely made the requirements." He paused, the malicious light in his eyes telling her that he was going for the slam-dunk. "But there was the interview. Tell me, my dear, what was the real reason you wanted that bottle of water when you were done?"  
  
It took everything Heather had to not slap him right then and there at his inference. She had something better to use than physical violence. The edges of her mouth turned up in an ice-cold smirk. For a second Ethan looked just a bit confused at the sheer menace she seemed to radiate right then and there, but then his normal control came back quickly. He had been told once that the best way to break a female agent was to let it be known that she had gotten her advance on her back. He'd seen it work before. If the rumor went around about Heather, she might be dropped from the training. He didn't know exactly yet where he had placed overall, but if he was next in line, he would be admitted.  
  
"You're right," Heather purred. "See, while you were training on your own, I was being tutored by your mother." Ethan paled. It seemed like a childish insult, but there was something in her smirk that said she knew the secret that was impossible for anyone to know. His mother had been a prostitute in Nevada. She had never been arrested. She changed her name when she left the lifestyle. There was no way to connect…but Heather *knew*. And if he said a single word of rumor to anyone, then the rest of the bureau would know as well.  
  
Heather gave him another smirk as that little bit of information sank in, and then sauntered off. She took a few steps and then turned back to him. "I finished in the top third physically," she called back to him, taking pleasure at the shock on his face. "And I have a photographic memory. What I study, I remember the first time, and don't have to go over it again and again, tediously, desperately trying to retain what I know. Congratulations on your pitiful number nine. I'm sure once I find the other person that scored perfect on their written, we'll have a good laugh at your expense."  
  
With that she gracefully whirled back around, gliding down the hall. Well, they hadn't said the words, but one could assume the relationship was now officially over. No great loss really. Besides, he was just an anchor around her neck. Great in bed, but an anchor nonetheless. Heather grinned thinking of the future. She had a desk to get cleaned, and some major packing to do. Monday morning. Her life was really going to begin then. 


	5. Preparation & Training (1)

"Damn it!" Liz shouted as the alarms went off. Cameron let her go, and she dropped the fifteen feet to the floor below. Janna unhooked the microphone wrapped around her ear, and stretched, blowing out a breath of frustration. Cam moved across the beam and hit the manual cut off, silencing the horn's warbling. He jumped down, landing next to his sister.  
  
"You hit the beam again," Janna said, checking the diagram on her computer screen. She tapped the tripped location. "Three times. This north entry thing is not working guys."  
  
Liz grimaced. "No kidding." She grabbed a towel and wiped some of the sweat off of her. They had been working for three weeks straight on how to do this job. So far, it wasn't looking good at all.  
  
"It's going better than the west entry," Cameron remarked, taking a big gulp of water from a bottle. He gagged and glanced at the label, his nose wrinkling in disgust. "What's with you two and this Perrier stuff?"  
  
"It for the cultured," Janna replied, catching the bottle that was tossed at her. She opened it and took a sip.  
  
"Some culture," Cameron teased. "It tastes like crap and you, my dear cousin, suck it out of the bottle instead of a glass." Janna threw the bottle back at him, but she decided to neglect putting the cap back on first.  
  
"Watch it!" Liz squealed as some of the water splashed onto her as well. "It is going to be harder to do a dry run soaking wet you know." The other two laughed. After the absolute disaster of trying a north entrance, and the problems with an east and west entrance, a laugh was well needed.  
  
"There's got to be a way," Janna sighed. "There's always a way, right?"  
  
"Right!" the twins chorused as they looked up at the mock up of the target.  
  
In the last few years it had become rather stylish in Europe for the wealthy to buy large buildings that looked lousy on the outside, and then do them up on the inside. Old warehouses and manufacturing plants were among the top of the lists. Liz had found the place that they were in when her English boyfriend had taken her to the French Riviera. She got mad that he was flirting with different women. He told her to get used to it. She told him to fuck off. He slapped her. Said ladies didn't use that kind of language. She broke seven of his bones, and then went for a walk. It was a long walk, and she had found the warehouse.  
  
It had two levels. The first had an extremely high ceiling and was a lot of open space. The second was where they lived. What had sold them on the place was that there was a separate entrance for the second floor. They could actually have people over without them traipsing through the staging area. Most of the rich kids that were buying places like this only had the cash to fix up one floor properly, so not allowing someone to look over the whole place wasn't considered ill-mannered.  
  
The staging area was the most important element of the place. They constructed mock-ups of the buildings that they were going to be breaking into. It went up quick with just pipe works and a few flat areas to use. It was never the same as the real thing, but it was better than going in blind. Janna had the blueprints on the table and had directed the construction of the di LiCossa mansion. She had the artistic eye to translate what was on paper to what they had. They had added as much of the security as they knew of, and were trying to get around it. It wasn't going as well as hoped. As a matter of fact, it wasn't going at all.  
  
"We're going to have to do the south entry," Cameron said glumly. The necklace was on the north side of the building, but that was the most heavily guarded. Janna was pretty sure she would be able to undo the security around the necklace, but the kicker was that they were going to have to do a video link because the final part of the security was internal access only. Janna knew she could instruct whoever was making the grab, but there was the whole radio issue.  
  
"Well, we could always do a single, with a diversion ready," Liz suggested. This was shaping up to be the most difficult grab they had done so far. It was by far the most frustrating, but with the money they were going to make, it was going to be worth it. She looked around the building. If the police ever raided the place, they would be toast. If all of the electronics and building plans weren't enough to paint a big sign over them, then the picture of the three of them with a Mayan shield and spear and mask would put them over the top. That was from their first grab, and they had kept it hanging on the wall for motivation. That sale had given the three of them an adrenaline high they never forgot. When it got bad, like it was now, they would remember that feeling, and work harder.  
  
"I don't like that," Janna said. "Since Cameron and I would be in contact to do the last bit of security, you would be out in the cold."  
  
Liz shrugged. "If I was on the south side, it would look like I was just breaking in if an alarm is tripped. Everyone would come to me, and give you guys another minute. Besides, it's not like I'm ever out of communication with Cam." Janna frowned slightly. She knew that they had that ability, but it did have limits. She preferred to trust what she could see and understand.  
  
"If getaway was on the south side, then north would be ignored," Cam mused. "Not a problem for me if we do the pickup right." That had been the problem with the north entrance. There wasn't enough time to get in and do what needed to be done. But if there were a distraction to the south, then maybe it would work. He wasn't worried about putting his sister in jeopardy. After all, the second she needed him, he would know. There was precious little that could stand up against two of their kind that was determined to escape.  
  
Janna shrugged. "Can't hurt to try. That's what practice is for anyways." She reset her equipment as the twins took up their new positions. She had designed a program that allowed them to estimate the time it would take for security to move in on their positions. In truth, it looked a little like a video game. To Janna, it was. This was all a big video game to her in a lot of ways. The only difference was that you only got one life to complete the game.  
  
They knew the date they wanted to make the lift. There were several members of a full time security staff around the family, but it was going to be lessened in a few weeks. There was always a full time guard at the gatehouse, and at least one or two men walking the fence around the estate itself. They weren't a problem. The problem would be inside security. The Conte's mother was still living and she and her daughter still living at home had a full time personal bodyguard. It was thought that there might be at least two more full time security personnel. The Conte himself didn't have a bodyguard, but he was supposed to be proficient with different weapons. On the plus side, the mother and sister were supposed to go skiing like they did every winter, and that was going to remove two civilians and two guards. Four less people there reduced the odds of something going wrong.  
  
Simultaneously the twins swung into action, Janna guiding Cam through the security guarding the necklace on one side while Liz broke into the other. Janna glanced at the time and shook her head. "Four seconds," she said, annoyed once again at her own lack of efficiency. The lock on the necklace changed codes every time it was activated, and a "key" was required to be able to decipher what the next code would be. There were only about four billion possibilities. Getting the key, which was like a remote control garage door opener, would be impossible since there was no way to know exactly where it was in the mansion. They were going to have to do this the hard way.  
  
When Janna called out that they were out of time, Liz casually reached up and tripped the alarm. Janna hit an activate button, and that got the digital guards heading for the other end of the building. Liz slid out of the "window" and waited. Twenty seconds later, Cam had the necklace. Liz jumped to the floor and headed to the safe zone before the first guard could get to her. Seconds later, her brother joined her. They grinned, and glanced over at Janna. She was grinning too. They had the necklace. They were in the safe zone. And people wondered why they were the best in the biz. 


	6. Preparation & Training (2)

Heather collapsed in her bed, utterly exhausted. If she was having a hard time keeping up with Agent Chambers, she could just imagine how the others were doing. Her three training companions were looking like death warmed over by the time they were released to go back to their rooms. Heather was tired, but she wasn't going to back down. Not when they were already halfway home. Three more weeks and they would be full-fledged members of HRT. That was the goal. And they were all helping each other get to it.  
  
It wasn't easy at first. There were two rooms at Quantico assigned to the trainees, and the guys were going to have to squish into one so she could have the other. Heather had taken a deep breath, and then made her decision to be just one of the guys right then and there. She gave the other agents a confused look, and said she didn't mind a male roommate. Hell, she had two brothers, it wasn't like they were going to be able to shock her with anything they could say or do. Since they were all adults, it really didn't matter. They weren't going to be leaping into bed together or anything of that nature. After the first day, it wouldn't have mattered anyways. By the time they made it back to their rooms, they were all collapsing in exhaustion.  
  
After the second week, the four of them were already forming a tight bond. Heather wasn't slowing them down, so they just accepted her as a member of the team. They were all struggling through, but each one was helping the other, and not dismissing her as just a girl. They had ignored her at first. HRT was the last remaining boys-only club, and it was a slight affront to them that she got in. She wondered if Ethan had said anything, but decided that the only way to dispel rumors was to show that they were unsubstantiated. She had kept up with them in the physical training easily, and not quite as easily with all of the other tactical training. Agent Greer was the best at that by far, but she was able to help him in hand-to-hand combat when he was struggling. They were forming a team.  
  
Brewster dragged himself into their room and fell onto his bed. "My ex- wife was kinder than him," he moaned.  
  
"I'd swear I was going to kill him in his sleep tonight, but I myself died in that last hour," she groaned in reply. She would kill for a professional masseuse right then. Hell, even Ethan would do. He gave great back rubs, she had to grant him that much. Unfortunately his hands were connected to the rest of him, and she didn't have much use for any of that anymore.  
  
Brewster probably would have replied, but he was already asleep. He was the weakest of them physically, but the strongest intellectually. He had been the one that tied with Heather for top honors on the written test. He was helping the others a lot to study all of the procedure lists and protocols. They had to have them memorized, because out of nowhere, Chambers could come in, announce that there was a hostage situation, and they better go right by the book and deal with it. He had done it the eighth night they had been in training, and even if it was a simulation, the other agents hadn't gone easy on them. Heather was eternally grateful she could get by on a couple of hours of sleep at night.  
  
The only thing that she could figure was that Chambers was making up for letting them have last weekend off. He was trying to make up for the pain and cruelty he had missed inflicting on them for two whole days. Thursday afternoon, they were doing some simulations with other HRT members, and someone had come rushing in and taken Chambers off to the side. Heather wasn't able to hear much since right then her unit went in to apprehend the "suspects", but she heard something about his daughter and a fall. Whatever it was, Chambers had run out of there in one hell of a hurry. Another agent had been there Friday directing them, and then announced that they would have the weekend off. The trainees were a little shocked, but nobody wanted to complain.  
  
Heather had used that free Saturday to find a place to live out there. She wasn't sure as to where to start looking, but she was lucky to have family here to help out. Actually, they didn't know yet that she was there. Her parents had promised not to tell them. Heather knew they had kept their promise when Xander, still slightly hung over, had come stumbling into the kitchen, drawn to the smell of coffee. He had opened the fridge to get the milk out, and that was when Heather announced that she had used the last of it. She also told him they were now out of Cornflakes.  
  
Xander had nearly jumped out of his skin when she spoke, slamming his head on the top of the refrigerator, and his shouted explicative got Cole and Janice running down from upstairs. Heather almost fell off of the counter that she was sitting on, laughing at him. He glared at her furiously, then snatched the bowl of cereal from her and dumped some of the milk in his coffee. She thought about fighting him for it, but what the hell, it was hard to rattle Uncle Xander, and she might as well enjoy one of the few times she'd ever been able to do it. Besides, she did need their help.  
  
Heather had told them all what she was doing there, and announced her acceptance into HRT. They all acted very proud of her for getting in, but there was something slightly off. She wasn't sure what it was, but Xander and Cole had taken a couple of minutes aside, and she knew they were arguing about something. Xander always had this slightly pissed look, much like a five year old would wear, whenever he wanted to do something, and Cole refused to let him. There wasn't any reason why Xander shouldn't do it, but some habits were too deeply ingrained. Maybe they were afraid it would be too obvious that she was "different". As the afternoon went on, she subtly made mention a few times about having to slow down a bit and how she was getting help from the other trainees on different things. Family could be so frustrating at times. She did have a mother and father to worry about her. Uncles and aunts were supposed to be people to have fun with.  
  
They found a decent apartment by late afternoon. Janice knew some places that had rent affordable for a young FBI agent, and that wasn't in a rough area. The guys had tried to suggest other places, but Heather was not going to rely on her parents to pay her rent, even though they had offered to. The last thing she wanted was to seem like a spoiled rich brat to her fellow agents. Janice had actually been a young agent at one point in her life, and knew the places that Heather could afford on her own right now. If she had someone that she could room with, there were some great townhouses, but the rent was way too high to swing on her own. Instead they found a nice one-bedroom place, with enough room for her stuff and a washer-dryer hookup in the apartment. The community pool was clean, and if there were roaches, they were trained well enough to scatter when the other occupants entered the room. A place would be available in three weeks, and the lease was signed in time for them all to go to dinner together.  
  
Heather had declined the invitation to spend the night with them. Although they had been told that they were off that weekend, Chambers was mean enough to pull a night raid and find something particularly evil to do to anyone that wasn't there. The other trainees had felt the same way and had filtered back in as well. It was quiet that night, but they were all still tense. Where was he, and what was he planning?  
  
Heather had gotten up Sunday and decided to go to the gym and stretch for a while. It had been a while since she had really been able to go all out, and her muscles felt stiff from not being allowed to move like they could do. She toyed with the idea of going out to the obstacle course and running it as fast as she possibly could. Maybe she would hit the jogging trails and just run for a bit. She was in a split, leaning over so that her forehead was touching her knee, when she realized that she wasn't alone.  
  
Heather looked up, and saw a little girl, maybe five years old, watching her intently. She was an absolutely exquisite specimen of her obviously biracial heritage with her mocha skin and long dark silky curls falling down her back. She was dressed in a little denim jumper, and had the most audacious bright red cast on her left arm. Her dark green eyes were focused on Heather, and the rest of her delicate features seemed rather solemn. "Hello," she greeted when she saw she had Heather's attention.  
  
"Hello," Heather replied, not sure what to say. "Umm…are you lost?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Well, you seem a little small to be an agent here," Heather commented.  
  
"Not lost. I know where I am."  
  
Heather smiled. She was starting to like the kid. "Are you supposed to be here?" she asked, trying a different line of questioning.  
  
"Mommy said not to get into trouble. I'm not being trouble. I was just watching. You can bend far. Can you do a flip? I can, but I broke my arm or I'd show you."  
  
"I can do lots of flips," Heather answered, wondering whom the kid belonged too. She was thinking about keeping the little cutie. "How did you break your arm?"  
  
Now the little girl smiled. "I'm going to be like Daddy when I grow up," she announced proudly. She gave Heather a devilish smile. "I was practicing jumping off the monkey bars."  
  
"Drea!" a woman's voice interrupted from the door. Heather looked over, and saw a rather lovely, petite blonde hurrying over. "There you are," she said quickly. She was nervous about something, Heather decided. And it wasn't about the kid not being where she left her. Heather had dealt with parents missing kids before. That was an altogether different kind of terror. This was just…nerves.  
  
Heather got up from the floor, and the blonde gave her a weak smile. "So sorry," she said. "This one just loves to wander off and take a look at everything." She gave her daughter a firm glare. "But she knows better than to interrupt someone."  
  
Heather shook her head. "She wasn't a bother. I was just stretching anyways." Who was Blondie anyways? Heather stretched out her hand. "Special Agent Heather Raleigh."  
  
"Karen Chambers," the woman replied, shaking her hand. Chambers? As in related to Special Agent Tynell Chambers? Oh God. The evil had spawned a new generation. And she was cute. Maybe she would take after her mother.  
  
"I'm Andrea," the short one announced. "You're like Daddy!" she said firmly to Heather.  
  
Heather grinned at her. "Not yet, but I will be soon."  
  
Andrea frowned. "Yes you are."  
  
"Drea!" her mother chastised. "You know better than to talk to an adult like that." She seemed a bit embarrassed when she looked back at Heather. "She's five, going on twenty-five." She explained.  
  
Heather laughed. "I have a younger brother and sister that were just as bad," she replied. "Just be glad she's not in Europe trying to 'find herself' right now." Karen laughed at that, picturing her littlest girl wandering about the streets of Paris or something like that.  
  
"Karen?" A very familiar voice called out from the door as Chambers entered, looking down at the file in his hand. He looked up, his eyes narrowing at seeing his wife talking with a trainee.  
  
"Daddy!" Andrea yelled, running to her father and leaping into his arms. It was a little awkward with that bulky cast on her arm, but he caught her easily. It was suddenly impossible for him to be big and bad with a little girl snuggling against him.  
  
Heather bit her lip, trying not to laugh at seeing this rather unexpected view of the HRT leader. Objectively, Heather could say that if she were just going by physical looks, she would jump in the sack with him in a second. There weren't that many black guys that really attracted her, but he was just gorgeous. Early forties, but he was better built than most guys in their twenties, and there was a maturity to him that was just irresistible. Maybe it was just being a trainee that made him seem to be nothing short of the devil in disguise. There had to be some reason a rather pretty woman in her late twenties would marry him and spawn him off a child other than the fact he looked damn good in a suit.  
  
"Well," Heather said quickly, not wanting to be hanging around any longer. She glanced at her watch. "I need to get going. Nice to meet you." She darted away quickly, grabbing her gym bag. Talk about an awkward situation. She went around the corner, but she could still hear Andrea talking to Chambers.  
  
"Can she come over for dinner, Daddy? She's like you and she does flips and stuff and we can play!" Heather grinned and started trotting down the hall, heading out to the obstacle course. At this hour on a Sunday, there wouldn't be anyone around. Cute little kid though. She seemed determined to be an FBI agent. She was going to have to learn that Heather wasn't like her daddy though. Daddy was way up there on the whole chain of command thing. Besides, where it counted, he wasn't like her at all. There were only a few others that were really like her.  
  
Heather lay on her bed in her dorm that next night, muscles aching, head pounding from the day's exertions. It was getting closer to being over. And there was some good news from the home front at least. As much as the twins irritated her, she was glad when they called mom and dad the other day and said they were coming home for the holidays. Actually, the plans were changed so that everyone was going to be in New York for Christmas. The little weasels were coming in early, and that was just about the time Heather was going to be finishing up her training and having some time off. It would be good to spend the holidays with all of her family. It had been a while since they'd all been together at one time. Maybe Xander and Lon and Shawna would come up to New York as well and Cole and Janice. Everyone together for a little while. As long as Chambers didn't kill her in the meantime. She sighed. She'd make it. She knew she would. 


	7. Breaking In

It was quiet. That nice kind of quiet that said all was well, and there was nothing to differentiate this night from thousands of others. There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary at the di LiCossa estate. The guard at the gatehouse was rather bored as he often was this late at night. During the day, there were always people coming and going, and there was always something to be done. Night shifts were more sitting with a cup of hot coffee and reading a magazine; one that he would throw under something if anyone would come remotely close.  
  
Inside, everything was perfectly normal. Cameras kept a silent vigil over the occupants. Italy had never historically been a safe place to live, but they didn't have to worry with technology guarding them while they rested. The gate guard scanned the cameras around the perimeter, but there was nothing to worry him in the slightest. The winter wind blew around them all, rustling the surrounding countryside, but all was quiet and calm that night. The guard never noticed that at camera four at the service gate, the same rabbit had hopped into the bottom right on the screen and then back several times. The bunny returned every six minutes to be exact.  
  
It was rare that Janna was actually this close to the point of a grab, but this was a rare case. She was going to have to be close to get them through security, and they were going to have to haul very quickly to get out of there before police showed up. She had spent a good two days plotting the best route out of there, and she knew some side roads that would make following them rather tricky. Actually, it would be impossible unless a pursuer would also have a 4 X 4 that could just about climb a greased telephone pole. Janna and Cam had gone in together and spent their entire share of the profits from a job that they had done on the vehicle. Liz didn't know quite why they were drooling over it, especially when Janna had that sweet sports car that her parents had given her, but to each their own. Tyler had seen it when he was in Europe earlier that year at one of his car design conventions, and he had lusted over it as well. Liz still preferred her Ferrari.  
  
Janna had the outside security made in a matter of minutes. The cameras were set on a loop so that it would look like they were still playing and recording. She loved how people just had to have their security systems set up so that they could check on their houses from anywhere in the world. It had started in day care centers so that mommy and daddy could check on the little darlings, and then grew from there. It was supposed to be hack-proof, but she used basically the same techniques her dad used when he used to do the Eye's Only hacks. They left the back gate open in case a quick exit was going to be needed and drove into the estate. Luck was with them that night and the wind was blowing the sound of the engine away from the populated area. This wasn't going to be easy, no grab was, but with luck on their side, they would be out of there without anyone knowing they were there.  
  
Janna stopped the SUV and got in the back as Liz and Cam got ready. It took a minute to get all of the equipment ready and make sure that it was all working, and then the twins crept out of the car. This was going to be tricky since once they hit the house perimeter, communication could trigger an alarm. Janna hadn't gotten that completely taken care of. She knew it wouldn't trip the alarm, but it was probably going to be recorded. Their microphones were now voice altering, but it was still a stress point. Of course, she was the one that stressed about everything until the twins got back. It wasn't fair sometimes. They knew how they were doing. She just had to wait for them and hope for the best.  
  
Their faces masked, gloves strapped on, and boots tied, Liz and Cam slid out of the car in utter silence. Janna opened the moon roof for a little fresh air and began the wait. Cam had a camera on him so that she would be able to get him through the necklace's security. It amazed her how they could move so quickly. She had grown up with it, but it sucked sometimes to not have gotten the good genes like some of her other halfling cousins. She had inherited her mother's ability to see in the dark, her tolerance to heat and cold and she rarely slept, but that speed and strength thing just hadn't happened. It wasn't really needed all that much when your two best friends could pick you up and haul you up a sheer wall, but it really sucked to have to sit in the background and do the grunt work while they got to have the adventure. Oh well. They wouldn't be able to do what they were doing without her watching their back. She concentrated on the screens in front of her, watching her  
cousins as they darted towards the big house.  
  
The twins stayed just on the edge of the cleared area, keeping the house in view. Liz ducked down low and waited while Cam ran around the perimeter to the north side of the house. She was glad they didn't have to worry about timing things and being a few seconds off and that screwing up the plans. Radio silence never meant that they were out of communication. They had to turn off the camera when they got close to the house to prevent detection, but it was still a comfort to have the other one near.  
  
Janna had control of the outside motion detectors. The inside didn't have any, but the windows would set off an alarm if they were moved. That was all on the internal circuits along with the necklace's security. Janna hadn't figured out a way to hack that, but Cam had found the solution. Since it was the frame of the window that couldn't move, they would simply remove the glass and the center supports for the panes. Liz had teased him mercilessly about having to remove all four panes when she only had to remove the lower two.  
  
(ready when you are)  
  
(moving in now)  
  
The necklace was on the third story of the building. It was too high to jump straight up, but they had their favorite carbon dioxide powered grappling hooks. There was a small ledge that ran around the building, and it was an easy shot. They fired simultaneously, hitting the target easily and scaling the wall. They pulled up the ropes and repacked everything. Getting down wasn't going to require a rope.  
  
The plan had been refined over the last couple of weeks. Liz was going to go down a hall and wait. One second before the alarm at the necklace was to go off, she would trip an alarm down there by opening a window. That should give them the time they needed to finish while Liz ran like hell and got out the window. With a little luck, they would think she edged around the ledge to the back, and go that way. In the meantime, she would have easily leapt to the ground and taken off at full speed as long as Cam was cleared. He had been in all of their practices at least. They would meet back with Janna and take off into the night. Janna had already contacted Southwood and told him when and where to be to pick up the necklace.  
  
Cameron knew his sister was waiting for him to finish, but she wasn't impatient. She was never impatient and tried to rush things. That was a quick way to getting caught, not getting the job done. He undid the panes carefully. The frame would have a tolerance to getting moved to account for wind and birds, but he didn't want to push his luck. The small saw made enough vibrations for him to worry about. It took a bit to get through the wood, but he couldn't risk using a power tool. Too much noise. He was fast enough as is. He glanced at his watch. From the first time he contacted Janna with the radio, they were set on the amount of time they had. Within minutes, the radio signals would be caught, processed as foreign, and then all hell was going to break loose. The panels gave way easily and he was ready to go.  
  
(going in)  
  
Liz took a deep breath as her twin's thought eased into her mind. She flipped the camera on, knowing that he was doing the same. Video feeds wouldn't trip the alarms, and Janna wanted to be able to see what both of them were doing. In utter silence she slipped through the window and moved down the hall like a shadow, getting into position. She broadcasted her location to Cam.  
  
(it's quiet down here, everything good with you)  
  
(so far so good, going to contact janna in just a second)  
  
On the other end of the house, Cameron moved into position carefully. It was quiet, and his enhanced hearing was on full alert for any sounds. The necklace was housed in a room that was designed as a display for it and the family's other special jewels. It was kept on the third floor, where the bedroom suites were, so that only special guests would see it. When they held balls and the like, the wife (or right now, the mother or sister) of the Conte would be wearing it. The room was large, and had multiple cameras in it. As Cameron watched, the red lights on the cameras blinked off, then on again. The entire camera system was together and once Janna had control of the outside one, the inner ones were easy.  
  
The room was beautifully done in marble with columns added for decoration. The floor was a mosaic of a side view of a young woman with her hand outstretched, and the estate behind her. She seemed to be reaching for some far-off land. Inset into the wall was the case where the necklace was. Spotlights were aimed at it so that the diamonds would create prisms within themselves as they were viewed. It was gorgeous, and Cameron felt a twinge of regret that they were going to turn it over to some guy so he could settle up with the Mafia. Oh well. He was going to get paid well for what they were going to do.  
  
In the car, Janna watched them carefully on the split screen as both twins moved into their positions. She loaded up the program required to crack the code to get to the necklace. All of her thoughts were focused on getting through this as fast as possible to get them out of there in record time. They were focused until Liz passed a little something on a display table in the hall she was in. It was a statue of Bast. She had heard the story of how her parents met, but it was an exaggerated one, she was sure. Her mom was wild as a young woman, but there was no way she broke into the penthouse and tried to steal a stupid statue. Mom was a lot of things, but a cat burglar? No way. Eye's Only operatives were all truth, justice, and the American Way. Just like Aunt Jhondie when she used to do stuff for Dad when she was young.  
  
In any case, this statue was far nicer than the one in her parent's home. That one was ugly. There was no way that anyone would want it, and that was why she knew the story had to be just a bit overblown. This one was beautiful though. It looked really, really old, as if it really was from ancient Egypt. With an artist's eye she admired the workmanship of it and the intricate carving. It looked like it was carved from a single piece of ivory with small hieroglyphics carved into the base that the cat goddess was sitting on. They never got greedy and grabbed something they weren't contracted to, but this was just a small statue that was just sitting on a table in a hall, and who was going to miss it considering that a multi-million dollar necklace was going to be missing. Well, she could ask. If Liz thought it was too much of a liability, she would say no. First things first. The necklace was the goal.  
  
They were in position. Cameron was the one that had to initiate the radio contact once he got set up. He double-checked the wiring and the connections. All were set. With a deep breath, he activated the microphone. "Remote one to base in position."  
  
Three stopwatches kicked on simultaneously. Liz quickly unlocked the window next to her. Three minutes and counting before she opened it. Her heart was pounding as Janna and her brother began to go back and forth, relaying the codes to open the necklace's case. They had done this over and over in practice, and Liz knew the exact moments when the pauses were going to come as Janna ran another diagnostic and caught the next number in the sequence. They had to get about four hundred, and then the algorithm could pick up the pattern. Luckily the computer ran through it in a matter of seconds, but a human had to change around the relays, and get them in the right pattern as well to make the glass lower. It might have been easier to break the glass, but it was two inches thick and bulletproofed. This had proven to be the better way. Not easy, but better.  
  
At the two-minute mark, there was a fifteen second pause while the computer ran the algorithm. They were actually slightly ahead of schedule. God, they were good. Janna's voice spoke up, addressing Liz. "Remote two, see the statue to the right on the table? If you're not busy on the way out..."  
  
"Are you nuts?" Liz whispered anxiously. She had never gotten a request like that before from Janna.  
  
"Just this once. It's Bast, like from the story."  
  
Liz almost giggled. She had heard the story as well, and it made sense why Janna would want it. It was a cheap-looking piece of art anyways, and not very big, maybe eight inches tall. No harm at all in throwing it in her side pouch on the way out. She almost laughed again at the thought of Janna giving it to her parents for Christmas or something like that.  
  
"Base, remote two, secondary target acquired."  
  
Liz watched her stopwatch, her mouth dry in anticipation. Fifteen seconds....  
  
(it's lowering!)  
  
The thought was shouted mentally and whispered physically. The Happy Dance would have to wait for later. They had never gotten it this fast before. Adrenaline was a wonderful thing.  
  
"Great," Janna replied. There was a pause and then a shocked gasp. "Oh my God!" she almost screamed. "SQUIRREL!" There was a loud slamming, and Liz knew exactly what it was. Janna was getting the hell out of the car. Oh God, not now. There was a weird feeling in the air. A static, and in an instant, Liz knew what it was. A silent alarm had been tripped.  
  
(cam!)  
  
(i know...feel it too...need another minute to free it)  
  
Still cursing their cousin, Liz wrenched open the window, the alarm's horns suddenly blaring as security lights all over came on, bathing the house in light. 


	8. Breaking Out

When the glass started to come down, Janna did a little "go me" dance in her seat. They had never done it this fast before. They ruled. Plain and simple. And there was something watching her. She looked sharply to her left and encountered a pair of beady black eyes staring at her. "Oh my God!" she gasped. She got out, knowing the fluffy-tailed rabid rat was watching her. "SQUIRREL!" she screamed, jumping out of the car to get a stick. It must have come in through the moon roof, but she was sending the little hell-beast back to its dark master special splattered delivery.  
  
There had been a storm last week, and there were several branches from trees that had broken lose and were on the floor of the forest. Janna swiped one up, heavy and firm still. It was plenty to whack that little fuzzy demon right back to…  
  
"Signora?" a voice right behind her called.  
  
Janna whirled around, faster than she ever thought she could move before. She didn't mean to, but the stick in her hand was already raised, and it slammed into the newcomer's head. Janna gasped in shock. There wasn't supposed to be anyone around! The man swayed for a second, and then crumbled to the ground in a heap.  
  
"Oops," Janna squeaked, dropping the stick. She leaned over him, and gingerly touched his neck. Please don't be dead, she thought desperately. I didn't mean to hurt you! To her relief, her fingers felt a strong pulse beneath them. She had just knocked him out. Thank God.  
  
"Base!" Cam yelled, getting her attention back. "Alarms all over…"  
  
Janna jumped back into the truck, ignoring the scampering of the squirrel. Her eyes lit over the screens and she gasped. What the hell had just happened? Her fingers flew over the keys. Whatever had been done, she had to undo it quickly or else there were two cousins that were going to be in a heap of trouble. Had being away for just a few seconds caused this whole mess?  
  
Inside, the bad news was that alarms were going off all over. The worse news was that bars had come slamming down to cover the windows. Cameron wasn't worried about himself. All of the noise was heading towards the other side of the building where the intruder was obviously coming through.  
  
(liz?)  
  
(heading out of this funhouse now…are you okay?)  
  
(fine…just about….there, got it…i'm out…going to go kill janna now)  
  
(right behind you)  
  
Liz waited for another couple of seconds. The bars were not planned, but she could manage. She'd super-speed to a far window, lift the bars, and jump. Everyone else would be coming here. She hoped. No matter. She'd go out the front door if need be. God, she was going to kill Janna. As a matter of fact, she was going to snatch that little statue that Janna wanted so much and break it on the way out. That would be fitting.  
  
Liz slid down the hall, about to make her move, when her brother's thought exploded in her mind, the shock and fear broadcasting out loud enough to cause physical pain.  
  
(OH MY GOD…HOLY HELL…NO, IMPOSSIBLE…OH MY GOD)  
  
Instead of veering left, Liz shot right down the hall, heading to whatever was after her brother. Her hand automatically reached out, grabbing the statue off of the table as she moved. If anything happened to him, this thing was going to have to be surgically removed from one of Janna's orifices.  
  
When Cameron got the necklace free from the clasps holding it onto the velvet board, he was positive they were home free. The bars on the windows were a situation that they had dealt with before, and he knew that Liz wasn't worried. If she wasn't afraid, then she was about to get out of there, and he was fine to take off as well.  
  
He dropped the necklace in his side pouch and turned, ready to make a quick exit when he was frozen in his tracks. A young woman was standing in front of him. For a moment Cam thought she might be the Conte's sister, but then he realized that he was seeing through her. It was like looking through a balloon of sorts with the other side slightly misshapen, but still visible. She was wearing some sort of dress that looked like it belonged in the middle ages or something like that. In his moment of shock and distress, he had absolutely no control over the terrified thoughts that were being broadcasted to all that could hear.  
  
The woman frowned silently, staring at his pouch. Her mouth opened, and then shut quickly. A slight smile appeared on her face. And then she simply disappeared.  
  
(CAMERON!!!)  
  
Liz's call broke through to him, and he realized that she was coming after him.  
  
(no, it's okay liz, don't worry about me…you're never going to believe what just happened, but get out and i'll tell you)  
  
Liz stopped in the hall, torn between going after him anyways and getting out. She knew what the chances were of a successful escape if they both went out that way. Absolute zero. And Cam would stay to get her out and then both of them were toast.  
  
(liz, go!)  
  
"Remote," Janna finally piped up, "bars are coming up."  
  
"Bout damn time," both twins hissed at the same time.  
  
Cameron heard people coming down the hall, but he was out the window in a flash as the bars slid up about a foot off of the sill. He slid over to the ledge, and then the bars slammed shut again. "Base!" he barked. "What the hell?"  
  
"Get out now, target or no target!" Janna ordered. "We're having problems." No kidding, both of them thought simultaneously.  
  
(liz!)  
  
(still in, just go and i'll catch up in a second)  
  
(two minutes and i'm coming back in!)  
  
Liz could feel Cam's hesitation, but then he jumped down. She wasn't feeling all that confident herself, but she knew that she was better at getting out of trouble than he was. She was smaller and far more coordinated. Experience had taught them that men didn't see her as a threat, and she could rip them a new one before they could blink. In any case, she needed to get out of there. Cam was serious when he said he would come back. Breaking out of an Italian prison didn't seem like the best way to spend the holidays, so it was time to get moving.  
  
She moved quickly back down the hall, trying to get to the other window that she had come through. It wasn't the window where the breech was shown, so there shouldn't be many people around there. She stepped into the hallway, whipping around a corner, and going face first into a young woman. The woman stumbled back a step as Liz managed to somewhat gracefully stay on her feet.  
  
The girl's eyes went wide at the masked person in the house. Her sudden scream was piercing, making even Janna and Cam wince hearing it over the microphone. Now Liz could hear people rushing to them as lights in the hall all flooded on. The girl was still screaming bloody murder, and the time for subtleties was officially over.  
  
Liz took off at full run, not caring who might see what. "Get those bars up now!" she shouted, slowing down to round a corner. A hand grabbed her arm, whipping her into a wall. She bounced off of it easily, an odd memory of the times Heather had kinetically thrown her around flashing across her mind. The guy that grabbed her was big. He also had a gun.  
  
Liz didn't hesitate. She jumped in fast, grabbing his wrist, and spinning into his body, her elbow slamming into his ribs. She felt the bones cracking under the force of the blow, knocking the breath out of him. Her knee flashed up, hitting his wrist hard and sending the gun flying down the hall. He grabbed at her again, but only came up with air as she used her inhuman speed to step back from him, and whirl into a roundhouse kick that took him off of his feet and into the wall, where he slumped to the floor. Liz almost laughed. Mom would be proud of that move.  
  
A single gunshot rang out, striking the wood just above her head. More people coming. Seriously time to go now. Liz could feel Cam getting ready to come back in, and that was the worst idea possible. She looked up. There was the window, but the bars were still down.  
  
"Three seconds!" she yelled into the microphone, taking off at a dead run. If Janna couldn't do it, Liz knew she was going to be slamming into metal bars. Probably getting shot in the process as well. This was Italy. Police didn't have to be called. Nobody would find the body.  
  
Janna's fingers flew over the keys. Something was not right. Seriously not right. If she didn't know better, she would swear they knew something was going to take over the security system. It was quiet, and then the system started fighting her tooth and nail. Well, it didn't know Janna Jacqueline Cale. And she was not going to give up. She always had another trick to pull out. She executed another program, and the red light on that window to indicate locked switched to green.  
  
The bars started rising, and if Liz had had the moment to think, she might have cried with relief. That is, until they started closing again. Desperation gave her an extra burst of speed as she dove through the window headfirst, feeling the bars scraping the bottom of her boot on the way down. At that speed, she overshot the ledge, sailing down the three stories. At the last moment, she flipped over, landing hard, and falling to her knees. Cam was already there, coming out from behind some trees in a flash. He grabbed her hand, hauling her up as they both raced into the woods.  
  
Janna started the car, and then jumped out quickly to check on the man that was on the ground. He was still breathing. She wanted to call an ambulance or something, but there wasn't time, and it would be a little hard to explain. She knelt beside him for a second, and his eyes fluttered and he groaned lightly. Relief flowed over her. She couldn't have hurt him too bad, despite the blood on his forehead.  
  
"I am very, very sorry," she whispered in Italian. Her Italian wasn't that great, so she hoped she was apologizing. She really meant it. "Nobody was supposed to get hurt," she added. She heard noises in the woods, approaching rapidly. "I really am sorry," she said again, jumping back in the car, and throwing it in gear.  
  
The twins were barely able to get into the car before Janna had it in motion. She glanced in her rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of the man slowly getting to his feet. That was a relief. But she had two very, very angry cousins to deal with now, and they also had to make their escape. Not a big deal. Sure. Shouting and driving always made for a good combination.  
  
The words being yelled back and forth blended as they were all yelling at each other. "If you nearly got us killed over a squirrel…" "You told me to go and there was a guy with a gun…" "You broke plan and went down another hall…" "Two of us couldn't have made that window…" "You said you had security under control…" "There wasn't supposed to be that many people in the house…"  
  
"STOP!" Cameron suddenly yelled, his deep voice topping Liz and Janna's shouting. Janna hit the breaks on the car, skidding them to a stop. They were on a rocky back trail, deep in the woods, taking some godforsaken roads back to the town they were based out of for this grab. "Just listen," he said quietly. All three of them were silent for a moment, enhanced hearing on high alert. There was nothing at all except for the wind rustling the trees. And then Cameron pulled out the necklace.  
  
"We did it," he said, breaking out into a grin. The two girls stared at the necklace for a moment, the diamonds seeming to glitter even without light. "Three of us plus the target," he said, still grinning. Liz and Janna started to grin, realizing what he was saying. They had done it. Nobody was chasing them. They were free and had the necklace.  
  
Loud whoops of victory filled the car as the animosity was forgotten in the face of victory. Besides, who ever said that good things come easily anyways? They had the necklace. In less than thirty-six hours Jaqui would be giving it to Southwood, and they were going to be so rich. And then it was home for the holidays.  
  
"We only got one life to live!" Janna chanted the words from the old song.  
  
"Let's get it over with!" all three of them practically shouted as Janna hit the gas again, heading towards the dawn. 


	9. The Camera Never Lies

"Signora, what is wrong?" Jon asked the moment Signora Lina di LiCossa and her daughter walked into the lobby. Her eyes were red, and she wasn't coming in the resort's entrance berating the bellhops and demanding her darling Jonathan right away.  
  
"Oh, Jonathan," she sniffed in heavily accented English. "It is awful, simply terrible."  
  
He immediately took her by the arm and led her into a small sitting room, signaling for one of the desk people to come over. He asked her to bring them some tea, and she did so quickly while the lady began to cry. Jon knew his regular clientele quite well, and knew exactly how to handle them based on their individual vagrancies.  
  
"There, there," he soothed, handing her a handkerchief. She mopped her face with it as the desk clerk brought in a tea set quickly. "It cannot be so bad. Do not cry, my lady. Tell me all about it and I shall make it all better." The dowager Contessa was the type of woman that liked her men to be take-charge and promise to take care of things. He patted her arm gently, waiting for her to calm down and tell him what the matter was.  
  
"We were robbed!" she cried. "The Jewels of Isabella are lost to us forever!"  
  
Jon blinked. Someone actually managed to take off with that necklace? He had seen it a few times and it was gorgeous, a tempting target for any thief. But he didn't know who could have broke into that kind of security and not get caught.  
  
"What happened?" he asked, giving her a cup of tea.  
  
She took a sip, calming down a bit. "The other night. Oh, it was awful. There were two of them, and one attacked Luisa in the hall. Poor dear was terrified, and when Marco tried to stop that creature from escaping, he nearly hospitalized him."  
  
"She," a feminine voice corrected, her English much easier on the ear. Jon looked up to see Signora di LiCossa's daughter standing at the door. She raked her fingers through her long dark hair and then glided to the chair near her mother. "I am positive that the person that ran into me was a she." She noted Jon's raised eyebrows. "I know that they are all saying that only a man could have inflicted such a beating on Marco, and they think it was a small man, but I believe it was a woman."  
  
"Luisa," her mother replied, "you know that Marco is a very strong man. He can lift you with one hand. Besides, there is no human on earth, male or female that can jump out of that window and run away." She looked back at Jon. "The police are baffled. They think it must be some kind of robot, but they don't know of anyone who can make such a device. And then there were the sound tapes that were captured. They sounded like people talking, but it is impossible for people to do as they did." She sighed, taking another drink, and then letting out a small sob. "Right now my children's ancestress' necklace is probably gracing the neck of some harlot!"  
  
"What is so odd about whoever it was jumping through a window?" Jonathan asked. It would seem reasonable that they would try to escape like that. And there were women that could take out men. Not necessarily the genetically enhanced type either. Janice could open a can of whoop-ass when she was in the mood.  
  
"It was from three stories up," Luisa explained. She was pouring herself a cup of tea and didn't notice Jon flinch. No way. There was no way. They had to be mistaken, or there was a rope or something that they didn't see.  
  
"You're sure about that?" he asked. "That sounds rather amazing."  
  
"We have it on tape," came the cool reply. Luisa smiled at him. "They had the security video under their control. It was quite brilliant really, but Antonio has gotten into astronomy lately. He had a camera mounted on one of the security lights. When it changed position to focus on the house, we got a very good image of what happened. There is no doubt. If it was a robot, it was designed to do exactly as it did."  
  
Or you have a couple of people with hyped-up genetics, Jon thought. "Do the police have any leads?" he asked, hoping there was the right mix of concern and casual in there.  
  
Signora di LiCossa let out a rather unladylike snort. "Police! What do they know? They look for clues where there are none. They think people like this will leave fingerprints? Ha! I say that we hire our own detectives, but my son, he is more stubborn than a mule. He says that he will take care of things himself." There was an unusual fire in her eyes as she showed rare anger at her son.  
  
"Antonio is very distressed as well," Luisa explained. "You see, he was in the woods that night, and came across the person that must have been in charge of…who or whatever stole the Jewels of Isabella. Whoever it was hit him in the head and knocked him out for a bit. I think it is now quite personal to him since he feels that he could have stopped them, but didn't."  
  
"We should hire our own people," her mother protested angrily. "Antonio tells us that we must go on our trip as planned. We were delayed a day since the plane had trouble, but he says that we need to get away and practically orders me to leave my own home. I tell him that Helena told me that if we want anything found, we hire the American firm, Carl Pilchard, and get his Special Investigator. He says he will do it himself and packs us off."  
  
"Mother," Luisa said calmly, "Antonio will calm down and hire professionals soon. He needs a day or two to think it over. We will get the Jewels back, I know that." She stood. "I shall go see to our suite now, and I think perhaps Antonio's advice is sound. We will do as we do every year, and not let these beastly people defeat us." She slipped out the door and headed to the grand spiral staircase.  
  
A crafty gleam entered Signora di LiCossa's eye as she watched her daughter depart. "I have a copy of the tape," she said quietly to Jonathan. Over the years, he had developed a reputation that he repeated nothing to anyone. Now all of his clients told him all sorts of details he would actually prefer to not know. Oh well. This time it might prove to be interesting. "If my son does not come to his senses quickly, I shall take action on my own," she declared defiantly.  
  
"Would you mind if I saw it?" Jon asked conspiratorially.  
  
"Of course not," she replied. "Perhaps you can make some sense out of it. You have more intelligence than the whole of the police put together."  
  
They went into Jon's office, and she produced the tape from the giant purse she was carrying on her arm. He put it into a player, his eyes widening as he watched the black and white images. It was rather fuzzy, but the situation was obvious. There wasn't any sound, but all of a sudden, someone went flying headfirst through the window. The intruder fell all three stories, and landed easily. She glanced up at the window for a second, and then someone else came running out, and they took off together into the woods. For a second, Jon was too stunned to speak. He was willing to bet that by the time they were at the edge of the camera's range, they were running almost too fast to be seen by the naked eye. But who? None of them were hard up for money. He knew what he needed to do.  
  
"My lady," he said finally. "I may know someone that can help." She raised a dark eyebrow in question. "You mustn't say anything though. She's not Carl Pilchard's Special Investigator, but she is his daughter, and trust me, there are certain traits that run in the family."  
  
She gasped in surprise. "You really know him? Nobody knows him!"  
  
Jon grinned. "His daughter and I were very close when we were in school, before we went to college. Would you mind if I copied this and showed it to her? She may have some ideas or know if such a pair were operating in America as well."  
  
The Signora stood. "You may do anything you wish if it might help catch these criminals." She smiled. "I feel so much better now. I think I shall join my daughter. Good evening, Jonathan."  
  
"Good evening, Signora," Jon replied, standing as well.  
  
She left, and he rewound the tape. He needed to get this onto his computer so that he could send it to Heather. Who could it be? Taylor and maybe Tyler? They were close. No, Taylor was in New York, getting ready to open as Clara in "The Nutcracker". Janna wouldn't be able to do that jump. Who could? Liz? Nah. She could, but why would she take such a risk. One of Zane's halflings seemed more likely. His kid, Breeanne, had shown with the ability to move like her Daddy.  
  
There was a knock on the door, and it swung open before he could even say to come in. Jon grinned as Katie swept into the office in her usual grand manner. "Jonathan!" she squealed, throwing herself in his arms. He responded with an enthusiastic welcome back kiss. It would be welcome home, but she had been there maybe a total of four months out of the year and a half that they had been together. It was more of a visit before she had to take off for another shoot again.  
  
"I wasn't expecting you for another couple of days," Jon said. Katie smiled in that sweet way that was what had made her such a star in the modeling world. There was hardly a fashion magazine now that didn't have at least one picture of Katie Raye in it somewhere. She had that look that was sexy, yet innocent with her flowing blonde hair and blue eyes. She was a pageant winner, and would have gone to the Miss America contest, but got a contract for a modeling job, and had ended up in the forefront of the most cutthroat business ever created.  
  
"We got done a little early, and I just couldn't stand the thought of staying away from you another day," she replied, giving him another kiss. She had been doing a shoot for a swimsuit magazine.  
  
"I think I might get the cover!" she said excitedly when their kiss broke. "My agent says that if I do, then he's got a calendar deal in the bag. And if I get a calendar then there's this makeup company that will want me to be their spokeswoman and make some commercials for them."  
  
"You're not going all Hollywood on me?" Jon teased. She was fun to have around. Not to mention the fact that every guy dreams of dating a supermodel. How many of them got the chance to actually do it? Katie wasn't exactly marriage and family material, but she was great to have around. Who knew? It might go further one day.  
  
"I'll still be all yours," she replied, luxuriating in his arms. She could imagine them together when her commercials finally turned into her big movie break. Not a movie of the week, but something for the big screen. He'd look so dapper in a tux as they went to the premier, no, the Academy Awards ceremony where she was nominated for best actress. With his dark blonde good looks, they were such a matched pair. And he was so sweet and wonderful.  
  
"Well, I have to get things ready for dinner tonight," he said. He liked having dinner in the grand dining hall with his guests. It added that personal touch that meant so much. "Would you like to join me?"  
  
"I think maybe I'll just nap in our suite for a bit, and wait for you," she replied, with a sexy little smile. Jon gave her another kiss and let her go. There was another large perk to being with Katie. She might be slightly annoying at times, and not the greatest conversationalist, but she had some extraordinarily redeeming qualities when they were alone together.  
  
Jon patted her on the rear and sent her on her way. He sat back down at his desk and finished transferring the di LiCossa tape to his computer. Heather had just sent him her new phone number. She had just moved into her place a day or two ago actually. Timing was good it would seem. Of course, with them, timing was always slightly off. He sighed. No, that was long, long ago. It was better that they had decided to remain friends rather than hurt each other with an impossible relationship.  
  
It had been hard at first. He could still remember the week before they were going to leave for college. She was going to Harvard, and he was heading to Berkley. They both knew this conversation was coming, and had tried holding off as long as possible, but it was time. A four-year long distance romance wasn't going to work, and then there was the fact that she wanted to go into the FBI and he wanted to stick with skiing. He had been injured in an accident the year before, and professional skiing was now out of the question, but he was toying with the idea of running a place of his own.  
  
They had talked for hours, and in the end, realized that this had to be the end. Heather had started to cry and said that she didn't want to lose her best friend. Neither did he. They swore that they would stay friends, and then they had made love one last time, and then that was it. He saw her for a minute at the airport when she left for Boston, and it nearly killed him to let her go. It was still tough at Christmas, but not as bad. By the next summer, he had actually started casually dating again, and he and Heather weren't as tense when they spoke anymore. Time passed, and they actually kept the friendship that they had. Now, they didn't talk as much before since they were both rather busy people, but they had kept as close as they could under the circumstances.  
  
He dialed her number quickly, grumbling with frustration when her machine picked up. "If you know who this is, you know what to do and when to do it," her voice piped up. Dammit. She better not be off doing FBI stuff. They had talked a few days before when she gave him her new number, and she said that she was about to graduate from HRT training and was going to have a couple of weeks off. Actually, she had decided to add a week to that and take her first real vacation since she had joined the FBI and spend the holidays with her family. Jon looked at the video images again. Yeah, she had some serious family issues to be taking care of now.  
  
"Heather, it's Jon," he said quickly. It was odd calling himself Jon out loud. She was still the only person that he ever allowed to call him that. "Listen, I need to talk to you, ASAP. The minute you get home, call me, and don't worry about the time. This is really important, and I need you to call me right away."  
  
He hung up. She better get home soon. Whoever was on that fuzzy video, they had to be a relative somewhere down the line. He had a feeling it would be much better for her to get a hold of them rather than some pissed Italian nobility. He thought about Heather's parents. Then again, maybe not. 


	10. The Sale

There were three men with Southwood this time, and they all looked like muscle, no lawyer in the bunch. They filed into the hotel room in Rome, all of them looking pissed. Janna hoped they weren't in the mood for a fight. It wouldn't be the first time that a contractor had decided that they didn't want to give them the other half of the money and try to get away with the goods. They thought that two women couldn't do a thing, and that the one man was outnumbered. They had a lot to learn. Janna wasn't as strong as her cousins, but she was very quick and had learned self- defense with the rest of them. There were only three of them? She'd just have to stay out of Cam and Liz's way.  
  
"Jaqui," Southwood greeted curtly. The dapper Englishman was gone, and there was just a British thug in his place. And the accent wasn't as good as it had been before. She wasn't in the mood for accents either, but she wasn't about to break her role. She shot a glance at the twins, and the concern on their faces said they weren't comfortable with the situation either.  
  
"Monsieur Southwood," she greeted as pleasantly as she had when they made the deal. "It is good to see you again. Would you care for a drink?"  
  
He glared at her. For a man that was about to get his hands on a necklace that had been guarded by an unstoppable security system, he wasn't a happy camper. That was not a good sign. Didn't make sense at all. Men. They were just put on Earth to be a bother to women.  
  
"No thank you," he replied gruffly. Liz's eyes were riveted on the short, but extremely muscled man of Southwood's entourage. He looked like the type that a painting of Satan would be modeled after with his dark complexion and hair and virulent hate in his eyes. What did he hate? Probably the fact that he had to share the planet with other human beings. Seeing her and Cam on edge was not helping Janna maintain Jaqui. She still kept her pleasant smile and relaxed attitude.  
  
"Very well," she said. "I suppose you would like to take care of business immediately?" She motioned him to the laptop that was set up on the desk at the side of the room. "As soon as you authorize the final transfer, then your property can be returned to you."  
  
"All of it?" he snarled through gritted teeth.  
  
She blinked. "You will receive what you contracted for Monsieur. I have never cheated a client before," she said, piqued that he would insinuate that he wasn't going to get what he paid for. They did not cheat clients.  
  
"I was under the impression that your clients didn't get greedy," he snapped. "That's why you were hired. Your people don't get greedy, right? Then why was there a statue missing as well?"  
  
One elegant eyebrow rose. "Would you prefer that everything get returned to the original owners? If I am not mistaken, you contracted for one necklace. The delivery is ready to be made. This upsets you exactly how?"  
  
Southwood came up to her menacingly, glaring down at her. She didn't flinch. One of the twins would know if he was going to hit her before he could swing. "My people know not to disobey me," he growled. She understood the threat.  
  
"My people are not trained animals," she replied airily. "And how do you know that it wasn't a maid that took the statue? My clients are requisitions, not sales. Since I don't have it to sell, then one could assume that neither do they. Now are we going to complete the contracted transaction, or shall I have this item placed on the Internet for sale?"  
  
He sneered at her, his left hand by his pant leg opening to signal one of his men to grab her. Before he could make it, the girl that was guarding Jaqui was suddenly in the middle of them. He stumbled back a step away from the fray as she tore into his men easily.  
  
Liz couldn't hear Southwood's thoughts all that well, but when one of his brutes started looking at his hand, and the thought was easy to pick up on then. Southwood was about to tell him to attack Jaqui. She had gone into action immediately, grabbing the man that was about to attack by the wrist, jerking him forward and slamming her knee into his solar plexus hard enough to crack bone. Her fist made contact with his nose, blood squirting out as they heard the bone and cartilage crunching.  
  
The second man tried to pull out a gun, but he couldn't get his hand out from his jacket before a hand of iron clamped around his wrist, flexing, and snapping the bones. His breath sucked in sharply, some part of his mind wondering how the man got across the room so fast. In another instant, all went black as Cam's second blow knocked him out cold.  
  
The third bodyguard, the dark one, was standing in front of Southwood, with his gun already out, and aimed at Jaqui. Her eyes widened as she realized that there was a silencer already attached. Bastard had come prepared for this. A cruel smirk twisted his lips as his finger caressed the trigger. Liz still had her hands on the man she had gone after and reflexively threw him directly into the arm that was holding the gun. The shot that was supposed to hit Jaqui rang out, hitting the wall to her left.  
  
He didn't have the chance to get another shot off. Cameron was already on him, and in a matter of a second and a few punches, he too was slumped on the ground, completely unconscious. Southwood was backing away from them, sweat breaking out on his forehead. It was very, very rare that he miscalculated a potential threat. He hadn't seen it coming from these two, and he had a sudden sick feeling that they would do to him whatever Jaqui said. He thought about the gun under his jacket. Jaqui was directly in front of him, approaching him with eyes filled with rage. He might be able to get her, but the other two would make him pay.  
  
The second Southwood let the thought of the gun leak, Cameron moved. He tried not to move at full speed in front of others, but this was a special circumstance. The look on Southwood's face was almost worth it when Cam was suddenly beside him, roughly yanking the gun from under the jacket and tossing it to Liz.  
  
"You, you…" Jaqui spat out, unable to express her fury. How dare he! "T'es un maudit rat de nous poignarder dans le dos comme ça!" she shouted at him. "We do not do well with those that try and betray us. You see, we let those kind live," her words were more of a threat than a reassurance. As Southwood knew from orders he had dished out before, there were far worse things than death.  
  
Liz and Cam shot each other a slightly worried glance. They didn't mind stealing from those who could well afford it, and they had no problems with protecting themselves, but the thought of torture was slightly nauseating to them both. Without needing to communicate, they both had decided that they couldn't do it. It was time to call the loss and just get out of there.  
  
Janna could tell that her cousins were on the edge of just taking off, and forgetting the rest of it. As Jaqui, she could talk tough, but unless he was fuzzy and had a bushy tail, Janna knew she couldn't kill him. Not like this at any rate. It was slightly frustrating because beating him to death with a shovel sounded like a good idea just then. She smiled coldly.  
  
"Well, monsieur, since you know seem to be a rather captive audience, it is now time to finish our deal." She indicated the laptop. "Just because you have no honor, does not mean that I and my clients do not as well." She paused, as if contemplating something, and then added, "However, the fees had to increase to do extra problems that were encountered. You will add, let's see, twenty-five percent to the fee to cover them. Either pay in money, or we shall find another way to deal with it." She glanced at her cousins. They seemed satisfied with the arrangements. Southwood didn't.  
  
"That…that's…" he sputtered.  
  
"I believe the correct term in English is highway robbery," Jaqui supplied with a wicked little smile. She shrugged. "I contract thefts, monsieur. What else could you possible expect?" She glanced at Cameron, and nodded to the computer. He shoved Southwood over to it.  
  
"You have five minutes to make the transaction," he growled as menacingly as he could, picking up a German accent. After a childhood growing up surrounded by genetically engineered killing machines, as Uncle Logan had coined the X-series, he knew how to sound dangerous.  
  
Southwood seemed to be debating something for a moment, and then sneered before turning to the computer and typed in his password to access his account. Even from across the room, Janna could easily see the screen. She had filters installed on that machine so any tracers that were activated would be diverted. She didn't like Southwood's look. It wasn't resigned. It was more "I'll get you later". Like he could. In a few minutes they were going to be gone, and Jaqui would be gone from the world for a few months. Hopefully by then he would be on to killing some police informants and not thinking about them.  
  
The computer beeped, and their account showed the money had been transferred. Cam nodded at Janna. Janna nodded at Liz before going to the laptop and closing it down, slipping it into a case. Liz grabbed a cushion from the couch and unzipped it, reaching in and pulling out a flat leather case. She would rather remove it's contents and beat the hell out of Southwood with it, but a deal was a deal, and they had made more than enough to make up for the extra trouble. This was even worth the squirrel. She went to Southwood and shoved the case at him. "Open it," she snapped in the same thick German accent her brother had used.  
  
He unsnapped the catch and opened it. The necklace glittered at him from the velvet that it was resting on. "There," Jaqui said pleasantly enough. "Contract filled. It was a pleasure Monsieur Southwood. Do tell your friends if they need any little property issues solved that we are always happy to help." She gave him one more sarcastic smile, and the trio left the room. The second the door shut, they were at a dead run to get the hell out of there before round two commenced.  
  
They got to the garage quickly, tires squealing as they tore out of there and into the busy streets. Janna drove in silence for several minutes, getting them well lost in traffic. The hotel disappeared behind them and all three of them started to relax. Janna started to giggle.  
  
"Did you see his face when all of his guys were dropped?"  
  
The twins started laughing with her. "They'll be wondering for months how we knew they were going to attack before they even twitched," Cam laughed.  
  
"I thought he was going to pee in his pants when you added the extra money to the fee," Liz snickered. "We should have really pissed him off and kept the necklace anyways."  
  
Janna shrugged. "I don't feel like sneaking it out of the country, do you?" They had to concede that would be a bigger headache than what it was worth.  
  
"Nah," Liz replied. "Better to just go home and pack and head to New York in a couple of weeks."  
  
Janna sighed, a little exasperated. "You two are going to go now! I said I would be fine on my own. It's not like I'm going to be doing any business while you're gone."  
  
Janna had told her parents she was taking an art class that fall. It had seemed like a good lie at the time since they were starting to bug her about what she was doing and where she was going with her life. So, she had found out about the class and said she was in it. The problem was that it didn't end quite yet, and they would ask questions if she left right before it was over. The twins wanted to go home now, but they didn't want to leave her. It wasn't like she needed babysitters. As a matter of fact, it would be nice to have a couple of weeks to herself to do some painting. She hadn't been able to in the last few weeks, and she was getting that restless feeling that she got when she couldn't be creative.  
  
"Janna, it's not…" Cameron started, but she cut him off.  
  
"You two need to go home. You have a sister to congratulate. Go be young and rich in New York and scope out the cool places for us to pick up people and leave them emotionally drained husks of their former selves." Liz and Cam laughed at that.  
  
"Are you sure?" Liz asked. She did want to go home and see the whole family. Heather was actually taking time off of work, Daniel was going to be home and she couldn't wait to see Tanya again. She was the cutest little girl in the entire world. Liz normally believed that small children were Satan's little lapdogs, but there was something just too precious about Tanya.  
  
Janna glared at her playfully for a moment. "I am going to be fine," she insisted. "We're talking less than two weeks. What's going to happen?"  
  
Liz looked at Cam who shrugged. It was less than two weeks. Janna wasn't incapable of living on her own or anything. Less than two weeks. And she needed some time alone every now and then. She said that having people around her sometimes stifled her creativity. What the hell. It wouldn't hurt anyone.  
  
They sped on, leaving Rome behind them and steadily heading north. A few minor clean up chores were left in Italy, and then it was back to their comfy little warehouse at the Riviera. They would pop the traditional bottle of champagne to celebrate a job well done, and then it was off to New York, and just getting to be Cam and Liz and Janna again. And that sounded like the best holiday of them all. 


	11. Shiny Shoes...Wheeee!!

Heather finished her bottle of beer and put it on the table, the buzz feeling rather pleasant. Actually, by counting the number of bottles in front of them, it was quite a bit more than a buzz. Then again, she could be seeing double, but then there would be a lot of twins in the room and there weren't so she was probably just drunk. Not all the way. She still knew where her feet were. And she wasn't naked. That was a good start to the night. Or ending. Whatever. They were having fun, dammit.  
  
"So then the guy says to me," Baker said, finishing the story he was telling about his first assignment with HRT. "He says, 'you can't arrest me for that. I only brought the guns!'"  
  
The table roared with laughter. Training had officially ended twenty-seven hours before. There wasn't a graduation ceremony or anything like that. Being accepted meant that they finally got introduced to the other members of HRT. And then about ten of them took the four new members out to a favorite bar of HRT and they were all getting gleefully blasted. She had wondered how they would accept a woman into the group, but since she could A) complete the same training they did, and the others could verify that Chambers didn't go easier on her, B) drink right from the bottle, and C) burp as loud as any of the guys there, they had accepted her and taken her out with them.  
  
"So when was the first time you got to shoot someone Raleigh?" Linkin asked jokingly. Despite what books and movies dictated, agents rarely killed someone. They pulled their guns often enough, but to pull the trigger was very rare. There were several agents at that table that had never fired a shot while on duty before.  
  
"Oh," she said waving her hand dismissively. "I was fifteen." That got their attention. She giggled. Oh yeah, she was well on her way to being drunk. Drunk was good tonight. So was the beer. Cold beer was always good. Except for bad cold beer. But this was good. The waitress came over with more bottles, and Heather grabbed one, getting to her feet.  
  
"Okay," she said with a laugh. "One time for all of you. And not like that Perkins!" She glared at another agent at the far end of the table. He almost fell out of his chair, laughing at her joke. It wasn't that funny, but the amount of alcohol he had consumed made it seem much funnier. Her chin lifted. "The story," she announced dramatically, "Of how Special Agent Heather J. Raleigh became Special Agent Heather J. Raleigh."  
  
Be careful what you say, she thought to herself. You shouldn't be doing this while drunk. What the hell, they were all brothers or something like that now. "See," she finally said, "since you're all going to find out anyways, I might as well be the one to tell you 'cause then you can't say I didn't." She took another swig. Talking was thirsty work.  
  
"Yes, it's true," she announced. "I am a total spoiled little rich brat. And I went to high school at this exclusive private school filled with fellow spoiled little rich brats. And when we went on school trips, it wasn't to some museum. We went to upscale resorts and went skiing in Colorado. Well, the first year I go, and it's the first time I am away from my very protective family, some guys decide that it would be cool to kidnap a spoiled little rich brat, and for some reason, they picked me."  
  
"And you shot them and got away?" Hartford asked.  
  
She glared at him. "Don't interrupt," she lectured, throwing a peanut shell at him. "It's rude." She smiled again. "They would have gotten me, except I was up late, and went for a walk, and heard them talking and stuff, and ran like hell. But before I could get out of there, my teacher caught me, and they heard her yelling at me for being outside, and they came after us both."  
  
She let out a small laugh with the memory. It had been scary then, but it was pretty cool now. "What they didn't know was that my teacher happened to be disavowed CIA. And what they also didn't know is that my uncle spent every Thanksgiving in Colorado with his stepfather. And my uncle is the definition of a badass. He's military, and we're talking heavy-duty covert ops stuff. We're talking stuff that makes Delta Force look like pansies. I didn't know how good he was, till he showed up in the middle of it, and just whipped up on anything that he decided he didn't like."  
  
"Anyway, we got away from them, but they had a sniper, and I had learned to use a gun a long time before that, and I had one of my uncle's guns, and I saw that guy take aim, and…. bam. Didn't even think about it. Fired three times before I knew what I was doing, and hit the guy dead center." She sat back down, her lips pursed thoughtfully. "Anyways, it was one of those life altering experiences, and instead of being a spoiled little rich brat, I started to be a responsible little rich brat, and got introduced to the idea of going into the FBI soon after than." She took another drink. Smooth.  
  
"No wonder you made it in and managed to survive Chambers," Hartford commented. "Girl's used to playing with the big boys."  
  
Heather laughed. "You have no idea. Speaking of big boys, wasn't Chambers supposed to show up?" She had been interested in actually getting to meet the man behind the hard front that he had put up for the last several weeks.  
  
"He had to deal with some domestic issues," Perkins called.  
  
Walker, one of the more senior agents on the team started laughing. "Domestic issues? Isn't that what he called what happened when he proposed to Karen?" He glanced at the new members, all of them looking curious, but not sure if they should ask or not. He laughed again. He probably wouldn't have said anything under normal circumstances, but the amount of alcohol he had consumed was making him very talkative. "See, Karen was married before to a total loser, worked for a chop shop, sold drugs, all that crap. It was one of those got pregnant too young kind of things, and then she had a few kids, and couldn't get away, and then the guy ends up in jail. So she's working at a bank, and it gets robbed, and they robbers get trapped inside, so they take hostages and in the end, she ends up meeting our good friend, Special Agent Tynell Chambers.  
  
"Six months later, he's all ready to propose. Drove us nuts wandering around, writing out different proposals and things to say and all that crap." A couple of the other agents nodded, grinning with the memory. It was rare for their fearless leader to start acting like a teenager all of a sudden. Funny as hell though. "So, the day comes, and he's down on his knee with the ring, and who should walk in but the now ex-husband who wants to discuss the whole ex status. He just made parole and nobody thought to call her. Guy's screaming and cussing at seeing another man with her, and starts threatening her and him and saying he's taking the kids. Legend has it that Chambers gets up, calmly walks over to him, beats the holy hell out of him, and tells him that the next time, he's calling in a few of his brothers, and the guy isn't going to have to worry about going to jail because they won't find all of the pieces to send. Then he throws him out, walks back to Karen, kneels, and finishes proposing. Hasn't even broken a sweat or gotten a wrinkle in his suit."  
  
They all laughed at that. Heather figured that she would probably say yes to a guy like that. Of course, she would have already beaten the hell out of the ex, but it was the thought that counted.  
  
"So would you fine, upstanding officers of the law really have made sure they couldn't find the pieces?" Brewster asked teasingly.  
  
Walker looked at him. "Hey man, anybody messes with my family, and they're going to pay the price. We're all brothers here." He gave Heather a small smile and hoisted his bottle of beer towards her. "Even the ones in skirts." He paused for a second, and then yelled down the table, "but that doesn't mean you get to wear a skirt Monday, Perkins!" And once more the people around the table dissolved into laughter.  
  
Heather laughed with the rest of them. Brothers, she thought. Yeah. Brothers.  
  
**************  
  
Brotherhood was a nice thought at midnight. When Heather stumbled into her apartment at two-thirty in the morning, she was hoping that brotherhood didn't require too many nights like this. Maybe she did. Her head was spinning and she wasn't sure where her feet were. But she had her purse and heels. At least she had one heel. The other was somewhere. She checked her purse. There it was. She put it in there when she paid the cab driver. Wait. That wasn't the shoe she had been wearing earlier. It was shiny.  
  
She threw her purse and the strange gold sequin shoe onto the small table by her purse. She'd sort it out later when the room would kindly start staying still. She had to pee. Good tip from her favorite doctor aunt. Hangovers are caused by dehydration. Drink lots of water while drinking alcohol. However, it made for some serious time in the can. Heather headed to her bathroom; habit making her hit the play button on the answering machine.  
  
"Hey, it's me," Daniel's voice said.  
  
"Hi Daniel!" Heather yelled back, giggling. It was funny, dammit!  
  
"Just wanted to see how you were doing and when you were going to be getting up here," he said. "Cyra's all in the fa-la-la mood, and you know how she gets. Let me know."  
  
"Will do!" she yelled back.  
  
The next message was offering her a big discount on siding for her home. Heather laughed again, thinking about calling them out and asking how much to put siding around her apartment building. The third message caught her attention. She flushed, coming out of the bathroom to listen to it the second time.  
  
Jon? He sounded worried. What was he calling her for that was not good news? And why did he want her to call him right away? She was tired and drunk and had a strange shoe in her purse. She wanted to sleep for a while. Bed was cold though. A cold bed was like bad beer. Bah. She liked sleeping with someone. She should have invited Brewster over with her. They shared the taxi, why not the sheets too? Oh yeah, she didn't like him like that. Damn. Could she make an exception for the night? He did have a great ass. No. Again, damn. She had liked Jon like that once. He was still hot. He'd warm the sheets. She grabbed the phone, and once it stopped moving around in little circles, dialed his cell phone.  
  
"Hello?" he answered, briskly. That meant he was doing something important. She hoped it wasn't Katie. Yuck. That would be some bad timing. Or not. He better be careful with her. She probably was a disease fest by now to get so famous.  
  
"Hey, you called me, buddy," she replied. She fell onto her couch. It seemed to be the place that was moving around the least.  
  
"Heather!" He better not act surprised. "Hold on a second." She heard him tell someone to do something about a lift. And something about wax. Wax. Candles. Warm scented candles all of the way around a bathtub. Like on her seventeenth birthday. That night was the first time that they…  
  
"Sorry about that." His words interrupted her train of thought. Maybe he would just talk to her until she fell asleep. He had such a great voice. "It's a little crazy around here."  
  
"I know the feeling," she said, and then giggled. "No I don't. I lied. It's not crazy now. It's actually very nice except I'm cold and can't figure out where my warm blankie is." That was very true. Her parents had surprised her by having her apartment in Chicago cleaned out and moved over to the one she had rented here in Virginia. It was sweet of them so that she didn't have to spend time doing that and could enjoy her leave, but she couldn't find jack around there. Her fluffy blankie had to be around there somewhere.  
  
There was a pause. "Are you drunk?" Jon finally asked incredulously. He knew Heather didn't drink a lot, and could count on one hand the number of times he had seen her totally blasted.  
  
"Ohhhh…maybe just a little," she replied playfully.  
  
"Great," he said, sounding both amused and slightly disgusted. "The one time I need you, and you're drunk. Oh well, you'd want a drink anyways after this."  
  
Heather sat up, grinning. "Aww…you need me. I knew you cared. Tell you what; I can be there in a few hours. Less, depending on what you're wearing."  
  
Jon started laughing. They both knew it was long since over between them, and hearing her come on to him was nothing short of hysterical. Heather had always been all over him when she was drinking. There was that party over at the friends the summer after they graduated, and he was lucky they hadn't ended up doing it on the coffee table in the living room. It broke first. That was actually the last time he had seen Heather really shitfaced.  
  
"Heather, go to your computer," he ordered firmly.  
  
She groaned as she got off of the couch. "You better be sending me something worth seeing," she growled as the room began to move about with her as the center. Center of the room. Did that mean the world was spinning around her too? Center of the universe. Full of shiny, shiny stars.  
  
She more or less fell into her chair, and opened her e-mail. Jon's resort had a website that had pages that were restricted so that he could let people see things, but not the public at large. It was great because then Jon's lawyer could see footage that had been filmed at the resort no matter where the lawyer was. Unfortunately, people still liked to sue for not being protected from their own stupidity. And stupidity was epidemic.  
  
There was an e-mail from him that had the web address. She loaded it up, and there was a movie link. She laughed. "Since when do I get home movies from you?"  
  
"Trust me," he replied. "This is going to be far more interesting to you than it is to me."  
  
Even with the high-speed connection, it took a minute to load. He asked her about the other members of HRT, and she said that she liked them well enough. Chambers was still an ass, but she was contemplating borrowing his youngest kid for a few years until she became an obnoxious teenager. Then the footage that had been taken at the di LiCossa estate started playing.  
  
It was only about a thirty-second clip. Heather watched it. She blinked. She watched it again. Jon waited silently, knowing that something had permeated her alcohol-fogged brain. She didn't say anything, but he heard her moving, and then the sound of water running. "Hold on a second," she finally said, and then she let out a sharp screech a second later, but at a distance. "Damn that's cold!"  
  
A minute later she came back to the phone, sounding quite a bit more sober. Jon was snickering. Some people used strong coffee to sober them up. Heather used an ice-cold shower. Knowing her, she didn't bother with removing the clothes first. That took too much time.  
  
"Tell me that's doctored footage," she said. She was still lightheaded, and the room was changing position, but her mind was a little clearer. Her clothes were soaked, and she now looked like a drowned rat, but she could think.  
  
"It was taken by a camera on the property of one of my clients," he replied. "It's straight and uncut footage. A very old and valuable necklace was stolen from them a couple of days ago, and this is all they got of the thieves. They said that one of them was a girl, and that she whipped up on a security guard. I've met him. He's a big guy. I wouldn't want to tangle with him. I thought you might be interested."  
  
Heather leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. This is not happening, she thought. Who? Please don't let it be the twins. Let it be a new strain. Maybe a mishap with one of her X-6 uncles and a condom, and he just doesn't know about it. Janna? No, she can't jump like that. But then again…  
  
"Was the security system taken out?" she asked timidly.  
  
"Like they've never seen anyone do before," he replied.  
  
She blew out a breath. "Jon?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What time is it there?"  
  
"Almost nine," he replied.  
  
"I'll be there tomorrow afternoon." 


	12. Getting There is Half the Fun

It didn't take Heather to understand that if there were ever going to be two things that were very, very bad to combine, it was flying with a hangover. She had still been too anesthetized by the alcohol on the flight going from Washington to New York to notice. However, on the way from New York to Zurich, she then knew that she no longer feared Hell. Hell was not fire and brimstone. It was being at 35,000 feet where there were no clouds to block the sunshine, and most of the other people in first class had their shades open.  
  
Heather was slumped in her seat with a cool towel over her forehead. One of the stewardesses was nice enough to bring it to her the first time they hit some light turbulence, and Heather ended up in the bathroom. They were lucky that time. Next time the guy in front of her might have his laptop out again, and then they were all screwed. The stewardess brought Heather some aspirin and ginger ale and left her alone in her misery. If she had suffered all of this because of something a relative had done, they were dead. The plane bumped lightly and Heather groaned, nausea threatening to overwhelm her again.  
  
Over the last several years, most of the family had started to use one travel agent for all of their needs. Carol was getting used to the family's odd needs, and eventually gave up on them keeping normal hours. She had demanded more than once to know when they actually slept. So, when Heather called her at three in the morning and said she needed to be in Zurich five minutes ago, Carol took it in stride. She also got a nice commission for off-hour requests. There was an account set up for them already with credit card information entered, so it was just a matter of booking the flight. She found one going to New York, and then another leaving there for Switzerland in the morning. Heather took it and then went to first dry off and then pack. She was already feeling not quite right, but it was going to have to be ignored. It was easy to ignore while she was busy. Sitting still, she was praying for death.  
  
Heather didn't want to let anyone know that she was worried about what Liz and Cam and Janna might be up to. The last thing they needed was to actually be innocent and having their parents and brother jumping on them and dragging them back to the States. If Mom and Dad decided they were coming home, the kids wouldn't have a chance. They would wake up and be in Seattle. Still, she wasn't sure where they were supposed to be working. She knew it was a little café, but there were only about a million in France. She was going to have to take a risk.  
  
She picked up the phone in the plane, and dialed Daniel's number. He would be much easier to deal with than their mother. Heather grinned when Tanya picked up the phone.  
  
"This is the Raleigh Residence," the little four year old piped up. One of her favorite activities in the world now was answering the phone. Only big girls could answer the phone. Heather could easily picture her standing on the couch with the phone in hand. It was a cordless phone, but she still liked to stand on the couch when she was talking on it. Cyra tried to get her to understand that if she fell, she could get hurt, and then she realized she was her father's daughter. Tanya had her mother's dark hair and eyes and complexion, but she inherited a lot more from Daniel than just his nose and chin and mouth.  
  
"And this is your aunt," Heather replied.  
  
Tanya gasped, and then Heather could hear the couch groaning as she jumped up and down on it. "Aunt Heather Aunt Heather Aunt Heather are you going to be here soon 'cause Mommy and Daddy said you and Gramma and Grampa and Uncle Cam and Aunt Liz were and Santa is going to come and we can eat and I want a puppy."  
  
"I'm going to be there really soon," Heather replied. Her niece certainly had a way with words. "And Santa is only going to come if you've been a good girl all year long."  
  
"I've been very good," Tanya announced gleefully. "Can Santa fit a puppy in his sled?"  
  
"Actually, your Daddy is the expert on what Santa can fit in his sled. If you'll let me talk to him right now, I'll ask him for you, okay?"  
  
"Okay!" She scampered off to get her father. Heather knew from experience that there were only a few ways to get Tanya to get off of the phone and get one of her parents.  
  
Her parents. Daniel and Cyra. Now if that wasn't a match made in slightly incestuous heaven, then Heather didn't know what was. About six months after they started dating, they were suddenly step-cousins by marriage. Daniel got away with saying they were cousins when he would adopt a Southern drawl while doing so. It was funny to them. Heather was still in high school when they first got together, and saw the first three months of their courtship as it was done from a distance.  
  
Heather knew about her brother's relationships. They were close and liked getting each other's advice on the opposite sex. She had never seen him so struck with a girl before. She was sure he was about ninety percent in love with Cyra by the time he returned to New York for school. The two of them had such a sweet, perfect relationship for the next couple of years. Because of her mother's lifestyle, Cyra had been afraid to get in an intimate relationship with a man, but when she learned that Daniel wasn't Mr. Experienced himself, she had relaxed, and they both knew rather quickly that this was it for them.  
  
Daniel had proposed to her right after he graduated and had started working for "The Truth". She had another year of college left, but accepted right away. Daniel had confessed to her a long time before about his "special abilities" but didn't tell her where they came from. Cyra had talked to Janice about it, and Janice told her that those things were real and they were just genetic, like hair or eye color, and told her that Cole was the same way. Of course, nobody mentioned that Cole wasn't an uncle by blood. Daniel had wanted to tell her everything, but there was no way he could think to bring it up. Then it happened.  
  
Cyra's mother's second husband had a brother that had thought Cyra was "reel purty". Of course, that was when she was thirteen, but he decided that thirteen was old enough. He had tried for a couple of months to seduce her, and when pawing at her in the back of a truck didn't do it for her, he decided on the direct approach. When all of this started, Cyra tried to tell her mother, but catching her when she was sober enough to listen was a challenge in and of itself. Janice had taught her a lot of self-defense stuff, and that paid off big time when Ricky had broken into Cyra's bedroom and tried to rape her one night while her mother was out partying. Cyra managed to get away, and this time made it to an all night restaurant and called her aunt. Cyra didn't know what happened exactly, but she knew Janice had a talk with Ricky, and he decided that California looked good this time of year. As soon as he got out of the hospital, he left the east coast. He ended up in prison a couple of years later for armed robbery. The attempted robbery was later featured on America's Dumbest Criminals.  
  
But Ricky finally got out and left California and decided to try his luck with Cyra again. This time he brought a couple of friends along. Cyra was alone in her apartment when they came in. She whacked one of them with a frying pan, knocking him out cold, and almost got away when the other one pulled out a gun. He ordered her to get over on there and get on her knees, and then there was a knock on the door.  
  
Daniel had just left, but as he was going down the road, he had this really bad feeling that something was wrong with Cyra. He thought he must just be paranoid, but it was enough to make him feel physically ill. Nothing like this had ever happened to him, and he finally decided that looking dumb was better than ignoring this. He was startled when a man answered the door. Cyra was out of sight, and the gun was trained on the door. If she said a word, then Daniel was going to be shot. Daniel asked for Cyra, and he said that she wasn't there. He introduced himself as her Uncle Ricky, and that his sweet little niece had run out to get them some dinner.  
  
Daniel had smiled and told them to tell her he dropped by. Ricky closed the door. He turned, and then the door damn near exploded off of its hinges, slamming Ricky in the back and knocking him to the ground. Daniel was in there in a second. He knew there was a gunman, and right where he was. Cyra had never seen anything like that before in her life. Daniel was moving so fast that he was almost a blur of speed, and when Ricky's friend took a shot at him, he seemed to dodge the bullet. The friend was out in an eye blink, his arm shattered from where Daniel twisted it to make him drop the gun. A single kick had propelled him into the wall, leaving a bloody stain where he slid down it.  
  
Daniel had stopped for a second to make sure that Cyra wasn't hurt. Then he noticed Ricky was climbing out onto the balcony. Cyra's apartment was on the top floor of the building, three stories up, and Ricky was trying to escape across the roof. He told Cyra to call the cops, and then he went after Ricky. A friend of Cyra's lived on the first floor, and she ran down there to call them. She was still on the phone with them as she ran back outside to see if she could see what was going on up there. The other people were looking at her apartment, and not up and over at the far side. They didn't see Ricky charge Daniel, his greater weight knocking them both off balance, and Ricky's flailing gracelessness took them both over the edge of the building.  
  
Ricky hit headfirst and died on impact. Daniel landed easily on his feet, not too far from where his fiancé was screaming. It wasn't too hard to explain later to the police that he had caught a gutter and slid down on the drain spout. It was a lot harder to explain to Cyra in private exactly why he could do what he did. She told him she needed to think about things. He said he would call her the next day. He did. She wasn't there. She wasn't at her apartment at all. Neither were some of her clothes and personal items.  
  
Daniel ended up at Cole's, railing to him about women. Janice heard part of it, and couldn't keep the disgust out of her voice when she asked him what else he expected. Pregnant women were notoriously emotionally fragile, and he unloaded a lot on her after a traumatic experience. Both her and Cole were concerned when Daniel turned paper white and nearly passed out on the floor. After he left, Janice and Cole had debated on if he looked more like he was going to pass out first or just have a stroke. Daniel and Cyra's anniversary was in a couple of days, and later Cyra said that was when she was going to tell him what she had known for a couple of weeks.  
  
Janice refused to say a word about where her niece might be. She had promised. However, Daniel had the resources of the CIA, FBI and military to help him find her. He did. Wasn't easy, but he did. Kidnapping her was the hard part. Actually, it was easy compared to the getting her to talk to him. It took hours of yelling on both their parts, and a lot of abject begging and pleading, but Cyra forgave him for not telling her. She had been worried about what she was going to give birth to, but Daniel pointed out his halfling cousins. They were normal. She finally agreed to marry him. He opened the hotel door, and she realized they were in Las Vegas. Daniel wasn't taking any more chances. Seven and a half months later, Tanya Elise Raleigh was born.  
  
"Heather?" Daniel's voice broke into Heather's thoughts.  
  
"Hey there," she replied. "Is it just me or has that child gotten more adorable since the last time I talked to her?"  
  
He laughed. "More spoiled is like it. One of you need to pop off a couple of kids so Mom and Dad won't just have mine to spoil rotten. But she's going to have company soon enough, so there's hope for her yet."  
  
It took a second for that to register in Heather's mind, and then she gasped. "She isn't? No way!" Heather sat up quickly in her seat, and then realized why that was still a bad idea. She let out a little groan at the movement screwed up her equilibrium and the sunlight assaulted her eyes, drilling into her head.  
  
"Heather? You okay?" Daniel had heard the groan.  
  
She sighed. "If I tell you the truth, then I get to ask one question, and you can't question me about it," she said. When he replied, she heard more of Dan Guevara than Daniel Raleigh in his voice.  
  
"What's the question?"  
  
"What's the café that the weasels are working at?"  
  
There was a long pause. "Heather, is there something I need to know about? Where are you and what's wrong?"  
  
"What's wrong is that I am seriously hung over and in a plane," she admitted irritably. "Jon called and asked me to do something for him, and while I'm in Europe, I'm going to shock the hell out of our little brother and sister." If they were the prime suspects, she was going to shock the hell out of them all right. For now, she could be annoyed at Daniel's laughter.  
  
"You got drunk?" he laughed. He laughed harder at her rude reply that only consisted of two words. "They work at Au Pied de Cochon," he finally said. "So, you and Jon hooking back up and not telling us?"  
  
"It's nothing like that," she grumbled. "Please, he's got Katie Raye in his back pocket right now. He asked me to help him with something very important, and I am not telling, so don't ask, and I said I would. And do me a favor and not mention this to anyone, okay?"  
  
"Sure," Daniel replied. "As long as you don't mention what I told you to anyone. That's why we wanted everyone here for Christmas to spring the news on them."  
  
"And everyone is thinking that you've got the article done."  
  
"Not even close," Daniel groaned. "I've still got a few more interviews to do, and then put them into my outlines. Do you know what it's like to try and get Jhondie and Justin in the same room? It's slow going, but it's got to be done right the first time. But, I am going to enjoy the holidays, and then get right back onto it. You are going to be here, right?"  
  
"Yes," she answered. "This shouldn't take long, and then I am going directly back to New York."  
  
"I'll see you then baby sister."  
  
"You too big brother."  
  
She was about to hang up when Daniel said her name. "Yes?" she asked.  
  
"He's only with Katie because he's not with you," he said, and then hung up quickly.  
  
Heather slammed down the phone. She wanted to call him back and yell at him for saying something like that, but it wouldn't do any good. He'd just tease her mercilessly later. She smiled. In any case, she was going to be getting a new niece or nephew soon. She'd get revenge by spoiling that one rotten as well.  
  
The rest of the flight was rather uneventful. They landed on time, and when she walked off the plane, there was Jon waiting for her. She was happy to see him until she noticed Katie standing there. It wasn't that she was angry to see Jon with another woman, but Heather knew that she looked exactly like someone that had spent a few hours throwing up in an airplane bathroom and getting no sleep, and Katie was standing there looking like a supermodel. Heather raked her hand through her red-gold tangle of hair, and smiled as she approached them.  
  
Jon immediately hugged her and she kissed his cheek lightly. "I am so glad you got out here quickly," he said quietly in her ear.  
  
"I'm just glad I survived the trip," she replied dryly.  
  
He grinned. "Would you kill me if I said that I hope it was for nothing?"  
  
She gave a weak chuckle. "Trust me, we both hope it was for nothing."  
  
He stepped away from her. "Katie," he said, getting her to look at them for the first time, "this is my good friend Heather Raleigh. Heather, this is Katie Raye."  
  
"Nice to meet you," Heather said politely with a tight-lipped smile. Jon felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He knew Heather. He knew that look. There were some people that she took an instant dislike to. Not that she was rude or mean to them, but they were simply distasteful to her. As a matter of fact, Heather didn't know most of the time that she was doing it. And Katie was getting that look now.  
  
"You too," Katie replied almost dismissively. "Jonathan, we really have to get to Gate C. If we're not there to greet Edmond, he's going to think he doesn't matter."  
  
"Sure," Jon replied. "Why don't you run ahead, and we'll get Heather's luggage."  
  
Katie flashed him the smile that had made her famous and scampered off. Jon had the grace to look embarrassed at least. "The editor putting together the catalog she just did a shoot for wants to meet her," he explained as they headed to the luggage carousels. "He called about six hours ago and said he was going to be here. She hasn't stopped talking about it since. It's a big career break for her." He paused. "I think."  
  
Heather smiled. "Not like I was here for her anyways."  
  
They walked for a minute silently, and she noticed him looking at her. "You look good," he finally said.  
  
She gave him a playful glare. "I know what I look like right now."  
  
There was the slightest hint of seriousness to his voice. "I mean it," he said. "You really look good."  
  
She wasn't sure what to say, but then the luggage started arriving. She only had one suitcase to find, and by the time she had it, Katie had returned with the editor on her arm. Heather figured that the reason why he was an editor was to get pretty girls to come near him. He was short and balding and about twenty pounds overweight. Heather knew overweight men that could carry it and still look good, but on his small frame, it really didn't work. It wasn't humorous until you added the oversized sunglasses and the goatee. Add the flamboyant gesturing, and then you just wanted to laugh until you cried.  
  
"Jonathan!" Katie cried like she hadn't seen him in a month. "This is my darling Edmond. Edmond, this is the love of my life, Jonathan Hamilton, and it is Jonathan, not Johnny, and his dear friend Heather."  
  
Edmond patted her hand. "No wonder you blossom here my darling, surrounded by so many lovely people. Come now love, show me to the car. We have so much to discuss and so little time to do it."  
  
They walked off, and Jon grabbed the handle of Heather's suitcase, flinching a little at the weight. "I can carry it if you need me too," she said softly, teasingly.  
  
Jon grinned. "You can be the hero next time." She laughed at their old joke and then they both walked out together. 


	13. Investigation

The di LiCossa estate was gorgeous. The quiet woodsy setting made for the perfect backdrop for the beautiful home tucked into it. It had been in the family for centuries, and from the looks of things, it would be in the family for a few more. Jon and Heather had met with Lina di LiCossa who had finally told her daughter what she had done. Luisa was a bit shocked her mother would go against Antonio's wishes like that, but she agreed with her. Heather said that she needed to see the scene of the crime, and both women agreed to escort her and Jon to Italy.  
  
Heather knew she wasn't being that much of a guest. Small talk was not her strong point right then. She had called the café where her brother and sister were supposed to be working, and found out that they weren't there. They weren't going to be in that day, or that month for that matter. Heather had said that she was a customer who had them wait on her, and wanted to know if they were there again because they were so good at what they had done. The manager said that they were extra help that came in for special occasions such as holidays when staff was short. From what he said, they only worked there maybe a couple of weeks out of the year. That wasn't what Heather wanted to hear.  
  
Luisa first gave them a tour of the house, telling some of the history and pointing out interesting facts about the architecture and some of the furnishings. She glided through the various rooms, her rich voice thick with accent, but her English very clear. She was a beautiful woman to say the least with perfect olive skin and heavy dark hair that fell in waves to her waist. Why she wasn't married already was anyone's guess.  
  
It would have been rather pleasant had she not been glancing back where Heather and Jon were standing just a few times too often. It was a little annoying having her trying to flirt with Jon while they were supposed to be working. Rude as well. Luisa knew he had a girlfriend. And it was distracting from what they were supposed to be doing. Well, no wonder she was so supportive of him coming with Heather to the estate. She probably just wanted to get him away from Katie. Whatever the situation, Heather had a job to do, and Luisa was just going to have to put her hormones on hold until it was done.  
  
They finally went up to the third floor, and Heather started mentally recording everything. She would have loved to follow the thieves' exact route, but that would have been just a bit too showy. Had it just been her and Jon there than it wouldn't have mattered. They could have had some fun with it. Showing off in front of Jon had never really been showing off. It had always been just fun.  
  
They went into the chamber where the necklace had been housed. Heather went to the window first, looking over it and seeing in her mind what had happened. All she could picture was Cam coming through here while Liz was on the other side being a distraction. There had to be another explanation. Those two didn't need money. They were getting to live wild and free in Europe, what other adventure did they need? Heather closed her eyes, took a breath, and then went back to examining the evidence, clearing her mind of all suppositions and pre-conceived notions. Whatever was, was.  
  
Jon had very rarely seen this side of Heather. She was so caught up in seeing what other people had missed that she wasn't guarding herself. Her movements before seemed stiff and formal compared to the way she was now prowling around, every muscle moving with liquidity. Katie was beautiful, but she couldn't move like Heather. In more ways than one if he remembered correctly. The only thing sharp on Heather right then was her eyes. They were bright and focused, and seeing far more than a normal person would be able to. Even Luisa noticed the change. She watched Heather intently, seemingly fascinated by how she had gone from a guest to an investigator in an instant.  
  
Luisa paled a little when Heather crawled out the window and examined the ledge, and then how the bars went down from the outside and then the inside. Heather took several pictures and made some notes. She had already been given copies of police reports, but she was looking at it differently than they were. Then there was the computer information that was going to have to be examined. The system had tried to fight the hacker and had captured some information, but it wasn't complete.  
  
"What kind of testing has your security been through?" Heather asked while examining the case that had once held the necklace.  
  
"We had a trial situation," Luisa replied. "They could not crack the code to open the glass." She smiled fondly. "And the two times that I know of that a thief has tried to take the necklace for real, Isabella let us know. For some reason, she didn't let us know that her necklace was being removed this time."  
  
Both Heather and Jon gave her an odd look. "Isabella?" Heather asked.  
  
"The original owner of the necklace," Luisa replied. She smiled at their skeptical looks. "Do not disbelieve so easily. Almost everyone in this house has seen her wandering the halls. The only time she has made a disturbance was when a thief attempted to take her necklace. My mother told me about the first time, and I was a girl the second. Both times, before the thief could leave, Isabella appeared and screamed so loudly that it woke the house and the thief was caught."  
  
"So, why all the security then if you had a screaming ghost?" Jon asked.  
  
Luisa gave a small laugh. "Perhaps it was a mistake to have it. Isabella might have been offended and refused to help this time."  
  
"Who refused to help?" Lina called out from across the room. She walked over to them, her forehead wrinkled with worry.  
  
"I was telling them about Isabella, Mother," Luisa replied.  
  
Lina smiled. "Ah, yes. Twice before that I remember she has saved her necklace, but this time she allowed the thief to escape. Perhaps Diego finally returned for her." She smiled benevolently at Heather and Jon.  
  
"Isabella was the wife of the first Conte di LiCossa," she explained. "She was a Spanish princess, but had the misfortune to fall desperately in love with a poor minor nobleman. He possessed no fortune or great name, but that did not matter to her. She thought that since she had elder brothers with children, she was no longer important dynastically. She and her lover, Diego del Fuentes, begged her father to let them wed, but he would not bestow a princess on a poor line such as Diego's."  
  
"Diego had a rare opportunity to go on a trading venture to the East. He had scraped together all of the family's money a year or so before that and sent someone out to trade for him, and had received a message that it had been a success, and that there was a fortune to be returned. However, if he wanted the true fortune, he must go out there himself. Something wonderful was there. He told Isabella that he would come back a rich man, and her father would consent then."  
  
"A short time before, her father had started to bring in suitors to choose from for his daughter. She was terrified that she would be forced to wed before Diego could return, and before he left, she made sure that she was carrying his child. No man would want her now. Her father was furious and punished her severely, but he could not ask a man to marry a girl who was to bear another man's child."  
  
"A year passed, and Diego did not return. Isabella gave birth to a son, but as many children did then, he caught a chill and died within a few weeks of his birth. She was distraught and to the point of suicide when a servant smuggled in something for her. It was a statue, but hidden inside of it was a letter from Diego with a drawing of a beautiful necklace. He said that he now had a fortune beyond compare almost in his grasp, and that necklace was his going to be his bridal gift to her. He swore he would come for her soon." Lina sighed dramatically.  
  
"Never showed up?" Heather asked, bemused at the story. In a way she wished she could have ancestors to have such colorful stories about. Well, ancestors that she could admit to having.  
  
"No," Lina replied. "Another year passed. Then came to court a young Conte from Italy. He had recently received his title for valor in battle, and more importantly had cared for Isabella since she was a child. Her pregnancy was a known scandal at court, yet he requested her hand anyways. Her father consented, and told her that she would either die or marry him. There was an executioner with an axe at her wedding ceremony. She was despondent over Diego not returning, and allowed it to go through. She wrote a letter to a friend later and said that in her heart, she spoke her vows to Diego, so when he returned, she would leave to be with her real husband."  
  
"Her husband had great sensitivity for her pain. He began to win her trust by offering to spend time becoming friends before claming his marital rights. She became fond of him, and grew to love him, but she never forgot her lost love. When their first son was born, he gave her a gift. It was the necklace that had been sketched in the letter years before. He told her that if another man presented the original to her, that he would allow her to leave with him if she so chose. That was when his kindness and compassion won him her love. His offer was never put to the test though."  
  
"I'm not sure if that's a sad story or rather sweet," Heather said. Probably rather exaggerated, but interesting to hear in any case.  
  
"It is a little of both," Luisa said. "It is said that Isabella still walks these halls, waiting for Diego's return." She paused, thinking for a moment. "I wonder if the thieves knew her story. The statue they stole was the one that Isabella had received her letter in."  
  
Now that interested Heather. She raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "I thought the statue was just a small one on a side table in the hall. You didn't have something that old and valuable to the family in a protected place?"  
  
She was expecting some annoyance from Luisa at the insinuation that she wasn't taking care of her ancestress' statue, but Luisa's smile didn't waver. Her eyes met Heather's evenly. "Many of us have tried to move it, but that is where Isabella wants it. I myself have moved it many times, but it always mysteriously ends up right back in that same hall."  
  
There was an odd pause for a moment, and then Lina spoke up. "Chef has a wonderful dinner prepared if you would like to come to the dining room. I know you have much to do, but you cannot do it on an empty stomach." Jon almost laughed. If there was one thing he knew Heather was going to like about Italy, it was that you did not leave a table hungry. The girl could pack away food, and she loved pasta.  
  
"I just need another minute to check a couple of things," Heather replied. "You can go on, and I'll join you in just a minute."  
  
Lina hooked her arm through Jon's. "If you wouldn't mind escorting me downstairs? Ever since we were violated, I have been afraid to be alone in my own house." Jon made a noise to protest, and Lina smiled. "Do not fear. Luisa will make sure Heather finds her way to the dining hall." She dragged him off.  
  
Heather was a little annoyed, but she could deal with it. She wondered if Luisa wanted to ask her about Jon and if him and Katie were very serious. Why was that bugging her so much? It wasn't like she liked Katie. As a matter of fact, Luisa seemed much better than Katie for Jon. Then again, a blow up doll seemed like a better choice than Katie. Both were bubbles that didn't know to keep their mouths shut, but one didn't have that annoying giggle.  
  
"I think my mother knew I wanted a moment alone with you," Luisa said with a small smile.  
  
Heather sighed. "Listen," she said, not turning around. "I know what you want to ask, and the answer is that I don't know, and that's not why I am here at any rate." She glanced back at Luisa. That look of amusement really annoyed her. "And besides, this is something you should be asking Jon about anyways."  
  
Luisa laughed. Not just a polite laugh trying to cover embarrassment, but a from-the-belly laugh of genuine amusement. Now Heather turned around, not hiding her annoyance. "You think…" Luisa gasped out. "Oh, my dear, you…."  
  
She fought to get back her composure under Heather's glower. "I thought about asking Jonathan, but then I saw that you are not the type to be approached from the side. You are far too direct." She giggled again.  
  
Heather blinked, not sure if she was hearing right. "You were flirting with him all afternoon," she said, a little confused.  
  
Luisa gave her a seductive smile. "Are you really that innocent? Jonathan is a wonderful man, but he doesn't appeal to me in the slightest." She walked up to Heather, trailing a finger up her arm. "Were you upset at the thought that I was flirting with Jonathan because you wanted me or him for yourself?"  
  
Heather backed away quickly. It took a lot for something to rattle her now, but this was doing it. In college she had received a few drunken offers from other women, but those were easy to say no to. "Umm, actually, neither," she managed to get out. "Jon and I are friends. And no offense, but I just don't go that way."  
  
Luisa's smile went from seductive to friendly. "None taken at all. It never hurts to ask." She paused and then asked, "Do you know that you are the only one to shorten his name?"  
  
Heather shrugged. "I've known him for a long time."  
  
"So have others," Luisa commented. "But he does not like to be called anything but Jonathan. Yet, he does not mind with you. Interesting." And she didn't say anything else on the subject.  
  
It only took Heather a few more minutes, and she was done there. They went to the dining room where the chef's prowess in the kitchen had not been exaggerated one bit. Lina took it as a compliment to see both Heather and Jon eating heartily. The food was great, and there was plenty of it. And Lina was apologizing for the simplicity of the meal. After six weeks of what was laughingly referring to as food while in training, Heather was in heaven.  
  
"Signora, your chef is again to be commended," Jon said, leaning back in his chair. Lina beamed.  
  
"I don't think I've eaten that well since…well, I don't remember," Heather added. She looked out of the long windows. It was full dark out finally. Dinner wasn't so much a meal as it was a presentation in Europe. "If you don't mind, I think I am going to take a walk around the grounds for a bit."  
  
"Not at all," Lina replied. "Just please be careful."  
  
"Want some company?" Jon asked. "I think I could use a walk myself." He wanted to talk to Heather. Something seemed to be bothering her that had started when she had come downstairs. Had Luisa said something to her? Lina seemed relieved at the very least that Jonathan would be there to protect Heather.  
  
"Sure," Heather replied, and they both excused themselves and headed out of the great entry hall and into the night air. There was a definite bite to the air, but it wasn't terribly bad. Jon was a little cold, but Heather seemed comfortable enough. It took some extreme conditions to make her miserable.  
  
"You okay?" Jon asked when they were a little distanced from the house.  
  
Heather let out a little laugh. "Well, I'm about ninety percent convinced that my brother and sister had something to do with grand theft, my cousin is probably involved as well, and Luisa just made a pass at me before dinner."  
  
Jon froze for a moment. Then he burst into laughter. Heather punched his shoulder and started walking again. He caught up to her, still laughing. "Hey, if you accept, then I claim rights as cameraman."  
  
"Jon!" She was finally smiling, becoming the Heather he had known. She laughed. "I cannot believe that you said that!"  
  
He shrugged. "It's a guy thing. I'm required to ask. If not, they would take away my membership or something."  
  
She shook her head. "I'd think dating Katie Raye would get you a permanent lifetime membership."  
  
He thought for a moment. "Would you hit me if I said she wasn't hard to get a date with?"  
  
"Probably," Heather replied teasingly. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "Do you really like her?"  
  
Jon stopped, and Heather did as well. He wasn't sure how to answer that. Hell, she looked surprised that she had asked that, and it wasn't something he was expecting to hear from her. He hadn't really thought about Katie in terms of did he like her or not. He was dating a supermodel, what else was there to ask. Had anyone else asked him that question, he would have just said of course and gone on. But Heather deserved an honest answer.  
  
"She's a lot of fun when she's around," he said. "She's not around a lot, so I don't have to deal with her everyday. Maybe that's why I still like her. I know she's not the type I could marry and raise a family with."  
  
"So why are you still with her then?" Heather asked. She didn't notice that she sounded a little out of breath. Their eyes met and she was suddenly aware of how close they were standing.  
  
"Because the right one isn't with me," he replied quietly. Jon knew that he wanted to say something about not having met the right one yet, but maybe he had. Not Heather of course, they had tried that already. Sure they had. When they were kids. If they couldn't make it work as kids, they couldn't as adults, right? It was harder as an adult. God, she looked good standing there in the moonlight with her long hair drifting around her shoulders.  
  
There was a long moment of absolute silence. Neither could move an inch, their eyes still locked onto one another's. All Heather could register was that for some reason they were close enough for her to feel the heat of Jon's body.  
  
On the wind came Luisa's voice calling out to them. She sounded worried. "Heather! Jonathan!"  
  
"We're over here," Heather yelled, stepping back from Jon. She took a deep breath, realizing then that she had been holding it the whole time.  
  
Luisa ran up to them. "Remember how I told you that the plane had mechanical problems, and that was why we were delayed a day?" she gasped out. They nodded. "The mechanic called us. He looked at the part that was damaged more closely. That was not just a break. It was sabotage!" 


	14. Seperation

"I know what I saw," Cameron insisted for the millionth time. He shoved his socks into his suitcase and glared at his sister and cousin. "And I know it's crazy and impossible, but I was not hallucinating, and it wasn't a projection. That was real."  
  
"Cam," Liz replied, hanging up a dress in her suit bag, "I don't think you're lying to me. As a matter of fact, I know you're not. I'm the one person that you can't lie to. But ghosts? There has to be a rational explanation."  
  
"I could see through her," he said emphatically. "That wasn't a maid or something."  
  
"I've been thinking about this," Janna said before Liz could retort. She pulled Liz's t-shirts out of the laundry basket and started folding them for her. "See, I think it's some kind of projection that's supposed to look like a ghost. Part of their security system that I couldn't get to."  
  
"A security ghost?" Cameron asked doubtfully.  
  
"It scared you right? I know just for a second, but it freaked you out." She gave him a charming smile when he glared at her. He didn't like to be reminded that he panicked for a second there. It made her little issue with the squirrel seem not quite as bad. "Think about this. Most professionals are not scared of security guards. But guard dogs spook even the top-quality people. So, they go a step further. A dog can be drugged or something. They have some awesome projection system that makes it look like there's a ghost there. I don't know how they did it, but I'm willing to bet that if it scared you, then most people would have dropped that necklace and run like hell."  
  
Cameron sat down on the only chair that was not occupied by things that were to be packed. "It was so real though," he muttered. "I could have sworn I picked up feeling from her. Like she was mad, and then…I don't know, like she wasn't anymore."  
  
Liz went over to her brother and gave him a hug. "You know that it's happened more than once that when we were tightly linked that we picked up on peripheral emotion from other people. People that should be out of range or not broadcasting. Maybe we were linked and when you saw that…that phenomenon, you had a big adrenaline rush and picked up on other people in the house."  
  
He shrugged. "I guess that makes more sense than a ghost." He looked up at them. Their expressions didn't say they were humoring him or trying to make fun of him. "When we get back, I want to know for certain if that kind of projection security really exists though. Trust me, we do not want to get caught like that again."  
  
"Agreed," Janna said. "I'd say I'd start on it, but I have other plans in mind for the next couple of weeks."  
  
Liz laughed. "With the amount of clay coming in, I'm rather curious as to who the model is since there's obviously going to be enough to share." Janna threw a bra at her, giving her a look of playful disgust.  
  
"When you get to New York," Janna said to Cam, "will you please get this girl laid? Spain is a little quick, I know, but New York should give you enough time."  
  
They all laughed at that little joke. Liz just wasn't all that interested in the selection of available males. It wasn't that she was more interested in the selection of available women, but most of the guys they knew just weren't worth even dropping her drawers for. Cam knew about that one little experience when they were in the Alps, but she had asked him not to tell Janna. Hell, she wouldn't have told him except for the fact that it was something that she just couldn't hide from him. Janna enjoyed playing the field, but Liz just couldn't find anyone that could hold her interest past dinner. Cam looked at relationships like Europe was one huge buffet of women, and he wasn't going to stop until he hit the dessert cart at the end.  
  
The twins had decided to leave a couple of days ahead of schedule. There was a big festival in Spain that they wanted to go to, but Janna wasn't interested. She was looking forward to doing some painting and sculpting. She loved her cousins to death, but they were such a distraction to creative energy. She wanted to get up to her elbows in paint and clay and not think about anything for the next couple of weeks but her art.  
  
"So what was that message about?" Liz asked. Janna had gotten a page a little bit before. It was a special page that said a potential customer was calling.  
  
"The usual. Some guy wants to set up a meeting." She made a face. With the amount of cash they had from that last deal, work was not going to be required for quite some time. "I told him that my clients were unavailable for a couple of months. He can call me back then."  
  
"Good," Cameron said. "I don't even want to think about what's coming up in the future right now except for Christmas, and maybe taking up skydiving when we get back." The other two agreed about Christmas, but still thought he was nuts about the skydiving thing. There was no reason to jump out of a perfectly good airplane. Liz would have thought that when he mentioned it to their mother that she would have torn him a new one for even thinking about it, but she just said that once he was ready to get started to let her know and they could do some jumps together. Sometimes Mom's definition of fun was slightly colored by her soldier days.  
  
Their flight was in the early afternoon, and they finished packing with plenty of time to spare. The most careful packing was the statue of Bast that they had filched. Janna wanted to give it to her mother, but wasn't sure how to do it. She was thinking that they would sneak into the penthouse in Seattle, and place it on her mom's dresser like her dad said he did with the other one. In the meantime, Janna had made a larger sculpture that was hollowed. The Bast fit into it easily, and she glued the two halves of the sculpture together. It was an odd abstract so the seam wouldn't be noticeable. Cam and Liz were going to carry it over to the US since they would know if someone was getting suspicious over it. There shouldn't be a problem though. They had every intention of declaring it at customs. There were plenty of young artists in France that sold their work on the streets. Nothing unusual at all about buying something from them.  
  
Janna took her cousins to the airport and saw them off before heading home. She was smiling the whole way back thinking about the new painting she had envisioned. As a matter of fact, it was going to be an abstract series entitled "Les Humains proviennent de la Terre, et les Ecureuils de l'Enfer". Most people wouldn't get the title, but she was willing to bet her mother and cousin would find it amusing. Well, Cameron and Liz were still touchy about the squirrel thing, but her mom would agree wholeheartedly.  
  
Her good mood faded when her pager went off again. She groaned. This had better not keep happening. She wanted some time to herself. She groaned again when she got the message. It was that same guy again. He said that he understood that her clients weren't available, but he was willing to offer ten grand just to talk to her. It was very important, and if it had to wait a month to get done, then he was willing to be patient. Janna rolled her eyes. This guy was going to bug the hell out of her until she personally told him to take a hike.  
  
She responded back that she had only one appointment available, and that was this evening. She had no intention of having him anywhere near where she lived when she met him. La Mandarine was a good two-hour drive away, but she could usually get a cute suite there. She checked, and there was one available for that night. Good enough. She told the prospect that she would meet with him there that evening, but he was to come alone. Janna knew self-defense well enough, but without the twins there, she was not going to feel comfortable if there was more than one person.  
  
Janna looked at her paints and clay longingly before she left. She liked the classy suits that she wore as Jaqui, but what she wanted more was to be in her grubby comfortable jeans and soft cotton tank top and getting splattered with the materials of her trade. One night, she reminded herself. Ten grand wasn't that bad of a price for a meeting; hell, usually the first one was free anyways. Besides, she liked to go for a long drive before a creative spurt. It helped to clear her head and get her ready for talent to flow from her fingers. Something like that at any rate.  
  
There wasn't much to do when she got to the hotel but wait anyways. Normally she was setting up the deal with the phone and making sure the sound bafflers were working and the like. It was very odd to be just waiting for the client to show up. It was even weirder to be doing it in silence. She was normally laughing and joking and talking with the twins while they waited. Janna had her sketchbook with her and played with that until the hour hands of the clock hit the exact top of the hour and there was a knock on the door. At least he was prompt. Janna pasted a smile to her face, and Jaqui answered the door.  
  
Tall, well-built male entered the room. Olive skin. Blue-black hair, dark eyes. Italian? Maybe. Absolutely meltingly gorgeous? Oh, hell fuzzy yes. Problem. He was familiar somehow. She couldn't place him. Art class somewhere? Better not be. They knew Janna Cale in those classes. Maybe he wasn't Italian. He had sent his message to her in English, and she responded in whatever language the prospect first introduced.  
  
"Good evening monsieur," Jaqui said with a friendly smile. "I am Jaqui."  
  
His eyes never left hers as he took her hand and lightly brushed his lips against her knuckles. "I am the Conte Antonio di LiCossa," he replied in richly accented English. "Have we met before?" 


	15. When it Rains......

Why would thieves sabotage a plane before breaking into a place? That made no sense at all. Heather had been checking out information about other thefts in Europe with similar traits. She wasn't really shocked to find some in India and South Africa as well. One in Argentina was suspect, and the one in Venezuela was probable as well. Looks like the kids had been quite busy, but still, one thing that was prevalent was that whoever it was made sure that they entered at a point where there would be the least amount of people around. They wanted to make it as safe as possible for everyone involved. So why prevent a scheduled trip? The plane wouldn't be able to be used to look for them by air, and besides, it would have been gone. It made no sense at all.  
  
Heather had the part with them, and she was going to take it and the computer prints back to the United States for some more analysis. Tyler knew a few people in aircraft engineering and he could tell her if this part was supposed to have failed in flight and it was just a good mechanic that caught it early. If the part was something that would have kept the plane from returning to Italy, sabotaging it would have made more sense, but she couldn't see them risking the lives of the passengers like that. Granted, Liz knew a lot about sports cars, but planes were much different.  
  
Heather wanted Donnelly in HRT to look over the computer records and see if he could tell her anything. She wanted some kind of hard evidence to link the little brats to the thefts. Getting them to confess was going to be much easier if there was something undeniable staring them in the face. It was that or shocking them into blurting a confession. That was the harder to do, but Heather was having a little idea form if the evidence thing didn't work out.  
  
In the meantime, Heather and Jon had to go back to his resort before going to the US. He wanted to see this to the bitter end, and Heather couldn't really complain about having him around. He knew when to stay out of the way, and having him on the flight back would make it much more pleasant than the flight out there. Granted, it would be hard to have a worse flight, but Jon had the ability to take her mind off of what was going on. He seemed to know that she needed a mental break from what she was uncovering, and was able to distract her with talk about the things going on at the resort, and she told him about the evil that was Chambers. On the way back from Italy, she noticed something a little odd. No matter what Jon was talking about, what he wasn't talking about was Katie.  
  
Jon needed to go back to make sure things were set for him being gone a few days. This was the busy season, and not the best time to be taking off, but he had a great deal of confidence in his managers. They didn't need him to babysit them constantly, but there were some things he needed to tidy up. Heather wasn't about to complain. He gave her this information rather than point the police in the right direction. If he needed a few extra hours, they were all his. Besides, it was going to be a few days before the twins got home anyways. That was more than enough time to plan an ambush.  
  
They got to the resort mid-morning, and their flight back to America wasn't until early evening. Jon said that would be plenty of time for him to take care of everything. He was going to make hotel arrangements, but Heather found herself offering to let him stay with her before she realized that she was going to do it. It was the polite thing to do since they weren't sure how long they were going to be in DC and when they were going to New York, but it seemed a little off somehow. Thinking about it, they hadn't spent the night in the same place since they had broken up. It wasn't a big deal though. Heather had a bedroom and a couch that folded out to a bed. She had just spent six weeks in close quarters with three guys. This wasn't any different.  
  
Heather had left the majority of her stuff at the resort, and just taken a small overnight bag to Italy. It made things easier traveling light, but she was looking forward to getting into some casual clothes for the trip back. The resort was completely booked as it normally was during the high season, and Jon had felt a little bad that he didn't have a room of her own available, but his personal suite had two bedroom, and ample space for Heather to stay. Although, considering her reaction to Katie, he was rather glad that Heather wasn't spending the night anyways. It would have been awkward to say the least when he went to bed with Katie and Heather had to go into the guest room. No reason for it to be awkward, after all, Katie was his girlfriend, and Heather wasn't, but it was just better this way.  
  
They had come through the back entrance since Jon didn't want to be seen with travel bags in front of his guests. They might not see him, but they got a cozy feeling knowing that the owner was so close at hand. Telling them he was skipping out to go running all over the planet with a girl was not good for business. As a matter of fact, it was Katie's biggest bone of contention with him that he wouldn't take off and go on location with her every now and then during the winter. This was a special circumstance at any rate, although he already knew he'd hear about it from Katie that he would run around with Heather and not her. Well, Heather alone was a special circumstance.  
  
Heather was tired and was looking forward to a couple of hours of sleep before they left again. Travel was tiring and she hadn't really slept in a couple of days. Unfortunately, she was more like her mother in needing sleep. It would be nicer to be like some of her aunts and cousins and not need to sleep for days on end. Jhondie's colleagues were amazed at her ability to do back-to-back surgeries that lasted ten and twelve hours and not falter. Taylor would spend an hour or so in a hot tub and be ready to practice again. No wonder she was fast becoming one of the best ballerinas in the world. She had an unfair advantage that she could practice more and work harder than the others, not to mentioning inheriting a revved skeleton and muscular system. It still wasn't fair that she didn't need to sleep though and Heather did.  
  
Later, Heather wasn't sure if she was glad or not that Jon hadn't called ahead and said when he would be back. It probably would have saved a lot of anger and embarrassment, well, maybe not considering the IQ levels of the other people involved, but then again, it wasn't right for the deception to continue. Another way might have been easier, but this was certainly undeniable. In any case, Heather was glad Jon didn't have a gun on him.  
  
One of the chambermaids had stopped Jon in the hall for a moment, and Heather was the first to open the door to his suite. Her inhuman reaction time seemed desert her for a moment at the sight in front of her, and when Jon came up behind her, there was no way she could keep him from seeing what was right there in the living room. That's what she told herself later at least.  
  
Edmond was sitting on the couch, head back, eyes closed, with the dopiest grin imaginable. His pants were around his ankles. Katie's favorite Angora sweater was draped over the armrest of the couch with a lacy bra on it, and from her position on the floor, it was obvious to even the most casual observer what was going on. The coffee table had pictures from Katie's latest shoot covering it, and one didn't need to be Sherlock Holmes to deduce exactly what the flow of events had been.  
  
Katie had tried to jump up when she heard the door opening, but Edmond had his hands in her hair. "You sent for a friend, darling?" he muttered with that stupid smile. "You certainly do want that cover more than the other girls." He closed his eyes and kept grinning.  
  
"Yeah, don't mind us," Jon said casually from the door. He brushed his way past Heather and headed to the bedroom. "I would certainly hate for you to lose your shot at the cover." His tone sounded casual enough at least. But there was no mistaking the sheer fury in his eyes. Heather could tell he was fighting to keep himself from hurting Katie or Edmond or the both of them. He didn't believe in hitting girls, but Edmond was in serious danger. Katie was in more danger, but she wouldn't see it coming until Heather struck.  
  
Katie finally jerked back away from Edmond, and leapt to her feet. With more than a little disdain, Heather thought that maybe Katie could talk her way out of this. She could claim she needed a toothpick and there weren't any around, so Edmond had something of roughly the same dimensions. "Jonathan, wait!" she said desperately.  
  
She wasn't bright enough to retreat at the absolute loathing on his face. "You do not want to talk to me," he growled. His hands were squeezing the handle of the bag tight enough to make his knuckles white. Heather knew that she was the only person in the room that could stop him if he lost it, but quite simply, she would be much too busy making them a drink for later. "Put your clothes back on and get your whoring ass out of here before I throw it out."  
  
She crossed her arms over her bare chest, whitening a little and taking a step back. Jonathan had always been smiling and joking around her. He was patient and listened and was fair. She had never seen him like this before. He had never once threatened her or scared her. She tossed a furious look towards Heather. He wasn't like this until she had shown up.  
  
Edmond had calmly stood and gotten his pants back up. He was a veteran of these little encounters, and most were quite civilized. Most of the models that he dealt with tended to date within the community, and everyone understood the rules. This was just part of the game. When the male walked in, as would eventually happen, there were harsh words and a bit of posturing, however, nobody wanted this on the cover of some tacky tabloid. He could probably leave right then, except all of the pictures were there, and he needed to gather his belongings. Pity. It was easier just to leave and let them sort things over. Everything would be fine by the time there was another awards ceremony and they went together. He might have left anyways, but there was the question of just whom the luscious little thing with Katie's boyfriend was. She couldn't be that washed out rag at the airport. With a bit of work, this one could be quite glorious.  
  
When Edmond smiled at her, Heather felt her skin crawl. She was planning on staying on the sidelines of this little drama for now. From the look on Jon's face, there was nothing that Katie could say or do to get him to forgive her. Heather hoped not at least. The reminder of good sex and a cute little pout would not sway the Jon she had known for so long. She didn't think he had changed that much, and from the way Jon was acting, she felt pretty secure in that assumption.  
  
"Let me get dressed, and I'll get Edmond out of here, and you can get her out and we can talk this over," Katie said, her voice a little shaky. Her eyes were wide and she gave Jon her best "innocent" look. It was the one that had always swayed him. It usually turned him on, and they would end up having sex and the argument would be forgotten. For some reason, it just didn't seem to be working.  
  
"The only thing I want to hear from that mouth of yours," Jon said through gritted teeth, "is where to ship your crap off to." Her eyes filled with tears. Tears worked on her Jonathan. He'd feel bad that he upset her that much and would calm down and they would talk, and then the make-up sex would be great and all would be forgiven and forgotten after that. When the first tear slid down her cheek, his expression softened somewhat. His hand touched her face lightly, the palm running under to cup under her chin. And then his fingers came together in a hard clamp on either side, making her wince in pain as his upper lip curled in a sneer of absolute disgust. "Don't even start with that crying shit. It's only making your makeup run and you look like more of a whore than you already do." He shoved her lightly away from him, making her stumble back several steps.  
  
When Katie made her last ditch effort to talk to Jon, Edmond sidled up next to Heather. She wasn't in the least bit telepathic, but she was picking up on him loud and clear. And now she felt like she needed an hour or two in a hot bath to clean the slime off of her. He grinned. "Tell me my dear, have you ever considered modeling?"  
  
Blood splattered all over the pictures on the table, the loud crack of a fist making contact with a face rapidly followed by the thud of Edmond's body hitting the floor. Heather blinked at him, not sure if she should be shocked or impressed. A lot of both actually. Jon heard that last comment from Edmond, and he had said it in a low voice, and before Heather could deck him, Jon was already over there, and now Edmond's nose was a veritable fountain of blood.  
  
"Edmond!" Katie screamed, kneeling beside him. "Are you…oh my God…" she looked up at Jon with no guile this time. "You…you hit…"  
  
"And if he's still here in five minutes, what I am going to do to him then is going to make this look like…like what you were doing to him," Jon snapped, and then stormed out of the room.  
  
Katie was helping Edmond sit up. He touched his nose, shocked to see the blood covering his hand. "He…that brute attacked me!" Edmond stuttered. "Summon the police immediately!"  
  
Heather snorted. They finally noticed her standing there. She smirked. "Funny," she sneered. "I distinctly remember seeing you take a swing at him first." She examined her nails. "Don't whine because you were on the losing end of self-defense." She gave them another snide smile and walked out to find Jon.  
  
Jon didn't answer when there was the light knock on his office door. He was leaning back in his chair; cursing himself for ever thinking that Katie might be different. He had worked with enough famous people to know how the business was. Katie had sworn to him that she was getting ahead on talent alone. Yeah. She was certainly using her talents on Edmond all right. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She had no idea how much he wanted to slap the hell out of her right then and there. Oddly enough, it wasn't Edmond that he had been angry with really. He was just doing what he normally did. Katie was the one who had made a commitment to their relationship, and she was cheating on him. Edmond would have gotten away, but when he made that comment to Heather, Jon saw red, and before he knew that he was going to do it, Edmond was bleeding all over the place.  
  
The door opened, and he whipped around, ready to throw Katie out bodily this time. Heather peeped around the edge of the door, and then walked in. Jon relaxed a little in his seat. He wasn't exactly in the mood for company, but if Heather didn't want to leave, then she wasn't going to, and there was no way he could get her out by himself. There was a small couch in his office and she perched on the armrest. Jon almost smiled. That was so typical of her to have the whole couch to herself, and end up sitting where she wasn't supposed. Drove her mother crazy.  
  
"Edmond wanted to call the cops," she said. Jon rolled his eyes. No denying that he hit him. His knuckles were sore from that hit. "But it's their word against ours that he attacked you first."  
  
Jon blew out a breath. "The word of a respected resort owner and an FBI agent against some Hollywood trash, huh?" There was no mistaking the bitterness in his voice. He had spent a year and a half with this girl, and she was nothing more than glorified trailer trash. What did that make him?  
  
Heather gave him a tight smile. "Whenever one of my guy friends would break up with their girlfriend, this is usually about when I would say that I saw her in a porno once."  
  
Jon looked at her, and couldn't help the smile. He laughed. "I sure can pick 'em."  
  
"Hey!" Heather said with indignation. "I resent that remark." That only made Jon laugh again, and Heather smiled. He wasn't in love with Katie. This was more just being pissed that he got played than losing the love of his life. Yuck. Katie as the love of a life was just a disgusting thought all around. Girls like that were good arguments for forced sterilization of the terminally stupid.  
  
"Transgenics, supermodels, I just have a problem settling down with a nice, normal girl."  
  
"You're not a nice, normal man," Heather replied. "You keep attracting the unusual." That came out sounding a little odd to Jon. It sounded almost like she was saying that she was still attracted to him, but that couldn't be what she meant. Jon wanted to ask her to clarify that line, but the door swung open, almost hitting Heather, and Katie stormed in.  
  
"Jonathan! I cannot believe you did that!" she practically screamed at him. "All the times I stood there and watched you flirt with other woman for the sake of business. I didn't say a word about you running off to Italy with some bitch that you used to know because it was good for your career, and the second I ask for a little reciprocation, you beat up the person that can springboard me!"  
  
Jon stood, leaning on his desk towards her. "You really think me complimenting someone is the same as screwing them on my couch?" he asked with deadly menace. Katie was too caught up in her own drama as the victim to notice.  
  
"That was not cheating," she screamed, stomping her foot for emphasis. "It's not like I wanted to have an affair with him. It's not like I fell for him. That is simply the cost of doing business in my field. It's like, for you, taking a new client out to dinner. You don't have to have it in the contract, but you know you're going to do it, and it's what's expected."  
  
"In other words," Jon broke into her rant. "You're a prostitute, and that was your price." He came around the desk, and she took a step back. She didn't think he was the violent type, but upstairs had just proven differently. "You sold your body to get ahead. Sorry, sweetheart, but I've never in my life had to stoop to a hooker. Now get the hell out of my office, and go back to whatever street corner you came from."  
  
"I am not a hooker," she gasped out, her face pale except for two bright red blotches on her cheeks. She shot a furious glance at Heather. "It's her isn't it? You really want to throw away a year and a half for some woman that you won't see again for years and years?"  
  
Heather had every intention of staying out of this. This was Jon's fight, and she didn't want to butt in on this. It was rather fun to watch from the sidelines. However, Katie brought her into it, and since she did, Heather was going to stay there. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a dollar bill. "Let's see," she said sweetly, standing. "You look like you're worth about fifteen cents. So how much will this get me?"  
  
Heather caught Katie's hand a few inches from her face. Katie's eyes widened at the speed of her reflexes and the tight smile on Heather's face. She looked like a cat ready to pounce. Katie tried to jerk away from the aborted face-slap, but it was like trying to get away from an iron manacle. "Maybe I should explain something you might not have realized," Heather almost purred. Jon thought about stopping this, but then changed his mind. One word would have stopped Heather, but his silence was all the permission she needed.  
  
"You see," Heather continued, "Jon here has a problem with hitting girls. Unfortunately for you, I don't." In a snake-like burst of speed, her free hand whipped in between them, backhanding Katie across the face, and slamming her into the wall. She sank to the floor, holding her face, her vision blurred and feeling like she might pass out. Heather went to grab her and haul her up for a second go, but Jon gently touched her arm. Heather glanced over her shoulder at him.  
  
"Thank you," he said with a small smile. God knew how much he had wanted to do that, but he had simply been raised better. "Can you make sure Edmond is out of here? I'll finish with this."  
  
Heather nodded, and then went to leave. She turned back to him with a bright smile before opening the door. "I'm still debating on which uncle I should call about disposing the body. For some reason I'm leaning towards Xander. Let me know when I need to call." Jon almost burst into laughter right then and there seeing the abject terror on Katie's face. That alone almost made this whole incident worth it.  
  
Jon grabbed Katie and hauled her to her feet. She let out a little whimper, but Jon cut her off before she could start some asinine talking again. Heather had landed the blow right across the eye, and it was already an angry red. Jon was willing to bed she'd have a spectacular black eye by that night. "Let's get one thing clear right now," he hissed at her. "I have cameras all over the place here, and that includes my suite. Trust me, I can edit out anything, and what I leave in, any tabloid in America or Europe would love to get their hands on. Now before you decide to say another word, you just think about what The National Enquirer is going to do with footage of the Sweetheart of Modeling using the ol' casting couch to get ahead."  
  
"You wouldn't…" she gasped. "Oh, God," she moaned at his hateful expression.  
  
"You're damn right I will," Jon growled. "If I ever see you here again, it's going to the highest bidder, you got that?" She gaped at him, and he gave her a little shake. "I said, got that?"  
  
"I got it!" she sobbed. "Jonathan, I love you!"  
  
He didn't dignify that with a response. Love? She thought this was love? No, he knew what that was. This? This was good sex and good times. All he had ever needed to know about love had just walked out the door a few minutes before. To even compare a tramp like her to Heather was an insult on so many levels that it wasn't funny.  
  
"I'll have Hans escort you off of the grounds. Don't even think about coming back." His grip around her arm tightened, and he half-dragged her out of his office. He was glad it was near the back where there weren't guests around. That would be more than he wanted to explain. Hans, his head of security would take care of this problem, and then he had to get things together. More than ever now, he was glad to be getting the hell out of there for a few days at least. 


	16. The New Prospect

Any accusation of Janna not having self-control would have been refuted in those seconds after she met the new prospect. Maybe it was simply because it was easier to keep her wits as Jaqui, but the fact she didn't run like hell spoke volumes about her ability to maintain control. There was a small bandage on his forehead. She looked into his dark eyes, and then recognition came in a flash.  
  
The squirrel.  
  
The voice.  
  
The stick.  
  
She hadn't been wearing a mask.  
  
"I do not believe we have met before," Jaqui replied, her smile still firmly in place. She stepped back, her hand sliding from his. He seemed amused in some way. Did he recognize her? And there was no way to tell what he was thinking. Oh hell. She should not have agreed to this. Not without her favorite telepaths to let her know what was really going on.  
  
"I would swear that I have seen you before," the Conte replied. A tiny smile tinged the edge of his mouth. "I normally remember faces very well. You seem familiar from somewhere."  
  
"I get that quite often," came the calm reply. Do not panic. Panic was not allowed in this situation. Jaqui kept her smile, feeling more natural now. "I have been on holiday several times in Italy. Perhaps we saw each other on the streets?"  
  
"Perhaps," he agreed. That smile said he didn't believe it though. He couldn't have recognized her. He would have only gotten a flash of dark hair across her face before she whapped him with the stick. Play it cool, girl, she ordered herself. If he really knew who she was, he'd have the police there or something like that already. So why was he here? To demand the necklace's return? How did he even know it was them? Maybe he just wanted something stolen to replace what was lost.  
  
"Would you care for a drink?" Jaqui asked, wandering over to the couch. This wasn't going to be hard at all. Tell him the clients were unavailable, and let it go. Besides, he was great eye-candy. She couldn't complain about that at all.  
  
"No thank you," he answered, his eyes still focused intently on her. She refused to let herself squirm under his gaze and instead met it levelly. His smile widened just a bit more, and he looked around. "This is a charming little place. How ever did you find it?"  
  
Jaqui smiled. One test of wills down, a few hundred left to go. "My car stopped working suddenly as I passing through town a few years ago. I had to stay somewhere for the night, and this seemed like a nice enough spot. I was pleased to have been right." She sat down on the couch. "Please, sit, monsieur. I am wildly curious as to what is so important that it cannot wait."  
  
He sat down, and leaned back, watching her. This was going to drive Janna crazy. She almost wished the cops would break in and end this game. "You know why I am here," he said.  
  
Her chin tilted up, hoping he couldn't tell how much faster her heart was beating. "Humor me then, monsieur." He really grinned at her then. Janna steeled herself from that smile. Okay, so he was really, really hot. He was not seducing any confessions out of her. Now other things…no, keep it focused.  
  
"There are no police waiting for you," he said. "I am a man of some means, and to go through police would mean evidence and then extradition, and a host of other delays. I would prefer the direct method. I wish to employ your clients to perform the same task that they performed for whomever wanted my property."  
  
Janna blinked. Well, that was a first. He was wired. He had to be. They were just waiting for a confession, and then the cops were going to swoop in and take her away. At least the twins weren't with her. They would find out where she was and get her out of there, and then it was running back to America for the trio. That was why they had never done anything there. The twins refused to do anything illegal where their sister might have to arrest them for it later, and it was good to know that they could always go home in case of real trouble.  
  
"Monsieur," she finally said, "I think that you may be mistaken in the tasks that my clients perform. In any case, they are completely unavailable right now, and will not be available to work for several months to come. May I suggest hiring a different investigative firm?"  
  
His smile turned into a slight smirk. "So your clients only investigate? They have rather amazing investigative techniques then. If you want to dance around each other, then there are several clubs nearby that we would have a more enjoyable time at. I know what your clients do. They specialize in the impossible. That is why I know it was them. You're a businesswoman. I am simply offering a deal that your clients will not want to refuse." The smile widened. "No police. Your clients will get paid. Both of our problems are solved."  
  
Jaqui crossed her arms. "Except for the fact that I deny knowing a thing about what you are saying. And in any case, my clients are not available. It would be months before they could start an investigation to find out where this property is now residing. Perhaps you should consider someone else to find it."  
  
"I am more interested in hiring someone that can fall from a third story window and not get injured," he countered. He leaned forward slightly, his expression that of someone just putting together all of the pieces of a story. "They are unavailable because one was injured in that fall and it will take several months for her to heal, is that it?"  
  
In that second, Janna mentally cursed her cousin for everything she was worth. Granted, she had to escape, but a less spectacular way would have been nice. They had to think that the thieves had ropes or something. He was just trying to rattle her. Without any video evidence, there was no way to tell that Liz had actually made that drop on her own. They would be looking for another way since a drop like that would have seriously injured a normal person. Okay. Change tactics here. Got to get him on the defensive. It would be bad to get caught. Worse to have it found out that it was a few little transgenics causing the problems. Janna didn't want to think about what Uncle Zack and Aunt Alicia would do to the twins if they found out what was going on.  
  
She took a deep breath, and let out a slightly annoyed sigh. "Monsieur, I said my clients were unavailable. Why they are is their business. When they are available again for work, they will let me know. Until then, all potential contracts must be placed on hold, including ones made from men accusing them of theft."  
  
"I am not accusing anyone."  
  
"Then what has this been?"  
  
"Stating facts."  
  
Jaqui almost laughed. "Has anyone ever told you that you are a very stubborn man?" she asked.  
  
There was that playfully sensual smile again. "That is why it is good that I inherited my title young. I like to get my way. And I always do."  
  
Jaqui felt a little tingle go up her spine hearing those words while he was looking at her like that. She was playing with fire here. "Is that a threat or a challenge?" she asked her voice taking on a lightly mocking tone. "I do hope it's the latter. A challenge is always much more enjoyable to me."  
  
"In that case," he replied without missing a beat, "it is a promise."  
  
One elegant eyebrow rose. "Are you hitting on me?"  
  
Antonio's smile dropped a notch, his expression taking on a note of surprise for the first time since he had walked in. "You're not French at all, are you? Very well done. I believed you were until you slipped on that phrase." He leaned back, that little smile back on his lips. "Now what are you really?" he murmured.  
  
Jaqui managed to get her lips into a superior smile. "Of course I am French," she said airily with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Why do you think I have this outrageous accent?" Her tone almost caricatured her accent playfully. Inside, she was mentally cringing. Her French was excellent, and the accent was perfect, but sometimes she would slip and use some kind of slang. It was a holdover from all of the ghetto-speak she had grown up around between her mom and Aunt Cindy and their friends.  
  
"Next time you want to convince someone of that, I suggest saying something more like 'serais-tu en train de me faire la cour' rather than use American slang." His smile widened seeing hers drop a bit, the lips tightening together. "Are you going to fling a large wooden rabbit at me now?"  
  
She blinked, her face brightening with surprise. She had said that line plenty of times before and nobody had gotten the reference. Her smile returned. "No," she replied, "but I may taunt you a second time."  
  
"You have yet to taunt me the first time."  
  
"You have yet to give me the chance," came the pert response.  
  
"Did you know that there is a Monty Python film festival at a cinema that is less than an hour from here? You can taunt me on the way there."  
  
Plenty of contractors had checked her out before, but none of them had ever actually made a move on her before. Maybe if he wasn't so divinely gorgeous he would have been easy to blow off, but Janna found herself stumbling over the invitation. Half of her wanted to accept and then molest him in the back row of the theater, and the rest wanted to run very fast and go hide under her bed for a while.  
  
"I…I do not date clients," Jaqui said quickly.  
  
"You said that those who you represent are unavailable. I cannot be a client then. If you still do not wish to see the movies, we can discuss exactly where you are from," Antonio fired back. He had her and he knew it.  
  
"That's blackmail," she accused.  
  
"I told you that I am a man who gets my way."  
  
Jaqui stood up, giving him an arch look. "Do not look so smug. I knew about it and was planning on going there at any rate once this interview was over. Now you are going to have to buy the popcorn, and I warn you know that I do eat a great deal of it. With plenty of butter. And you're not going to get anything out of me."  
  
Antonio stood, his dark eyes lit. He did like a challenge. "Actually, I was planning on getting something in you, not out of you."  
  
Her eyes widened. All that elegance and that was the line he came up with? She had heard better lines from horny boys in high school. "Pardon, monsieur, what did you just say?" she said, the outrage in her voice evident.  
  
"My name is Antonio. And I was referring to getting dinner into you after the show. Whatever were you thinking?" The twinkle in his eyes said that he had gotten the reaction out of her that he was looking for.  
  
She grabbed her coat off of the coat rack next to the door. "Lead on Antonio," she said in almost a challenging tone. Art could wait for one more night. This was finally something interesting. 


	17. Persistance

Janna moistened her hands again and ran her thumb around the top of the sculpture, smoothing out the clay. She already had it completed in her mind, and now it was just a matter of transferring what she had in her mind into the clay. She took another wad of clay, rolling into a long cylinder and began attaching it to the sculpture, wrapping it around the long spiral in the center. Some of the artists she knew would use neon tubing to highlight the spiral, but she preferred what paint could do rather than a glitzy move. She still had the bronze sheets that she needed to cut into thin strips and attach to the top of the sculpture to give it almost a fountain effect, but that was going to have to wait until it got out of the kiln.  
  
The chime of the doorbell startled her out of her concentration. She blinked a couple of times to come back to reality. It was so easy to get lost in what she was doing. Sculpting wasn't as bad, but when she painted, it was like she was a tiny figure in the painting, directing all of the action. She had been known to ignore the phone right beside her, her pager, and loud music…all at once. She was expecting a delivery today, and that was exactly why she didn't want to paint. She needed to be conscious enough to get the door when it came so that she could finish another project she was working on.  
  
Janna jogged from her studio to the front door quickly, wiping some of the excess clay onto a towel as she ran. For once she didn't have to worry about Liz freaking out that she was getting clay all over the Persian rug. That had only happened once, and Janna had gotten it cleaned. It wouldn't have happened if Liz wasn't dogsitting at the time and the mutt had tripped Janna. Well, he was the one that flipped up the edge of the rug and she had tripped over it. Stupid dog. She should have used him for a towel.  
  
She flung open the door, reminding herself to clean the clay off of the handle later. It better be the paint that she had ordered. It was this iridescent wash that she was going to use to go over the painting she had just finished. It made it seem hazy, like out of a fantasy story, which went well since it was a scene from Swan Lake. The painting was Taylor's Christmas gift, Swan Lake being her first major production that she had starred in, and the figures in it looked suspiciously like Taylor and Sasha, and…and…and…  
  
Her delivery was there. That was good. It was just that Antonio was holding the box. He was smiling at her; amused by how huge her eyes got and the way her jaw hit the floor. He was less amused when she slammed the door shut in his face.  
  
Janna backed away from the door, barely able to keep the scream down. How the hell? What was he doing here? No. This was not happening. This was impossible. After the other night, she hadn't ever expected to see him ever again. Granted, it had been one hell of a night once he stopped trying to get her to admit that her "clients" had stolen the necklace, but this was not exactly a repeat dating thing. She couldn't tell him her real name for crying out loud! But he was at her house. Oh God. He was at her house.  
  
And the other night had been fabulous. She had so regretted it when he took her back to the hotel at some point near dawn. Actually, she didn't regret him taking her back so much as him not staying. Not that she would sleep with a guy on the first date, and as a matter of fact, all he did was kiss her hand, but she did wish just a tiny little bit that he would stay. The evening had been so wonderful. They went to the movies and he bought her popcorn to her heart's content. He was waiting for her to slip out of the French accent, and she had taken the challenge to not lose it, even when she laughed, and she thought he was a little amused that she didn't miss a beat.  
  
He had tried one last tactic, and switched to French and didn't say another word in English for the rest of the evening. That was nothing. She lived in France; her command of the language was excellent. They talked about the movies during dinner, and she was pleased that he didn't try to pry personal information out of her. Instead they talked about likes and interests. She admitted that she wasn't into sports when he said that he liked to play tennis and polo, but she did golf when she was in a bad mood. There was something about whacking little balls with a club that made her feel better. Then he mentioned the ballet that was going to be near his home soon, but said that he wasn't into it like his sister was unless Tahlia was dancing. Janna almost choked. Tahlia was Taylor's stage name. Janna had laughed and said that she enjoyed the ballet in general, but Tahlia was one of her favorite dancers.  
  
It had been such a wonderful night. They had quoted Monty Python at each other until Janna thought she was going to pass out from laughing. She had scored the best line timing of the night though when Antonio had made a little comment about punishment, and there was no way Janna could resist. She leaned forward over the table a bit, grinned, and said in a low voice just as Antonio took a bite of food "A spanking? And after the spanking…" He almost choked to death laughing at that.  
  
He had taken her back to the hotel soon after that, and then it was over. Sweet, and she so wished she could have him call her later, but common sense prevailed. It was over. It was supposed to be over at least. She had known it was over. As the front door swung back open, revealing him once again, Janna realized that nobody had told Antonio that it was a one- night deal. Oh God. Now what?  
  
He held up the box. "There was a young man about to deliver this to a…" he glanced at the name on it "J.C. I took the liberty of signing for it for you." His irritation at having the door slammed in his face was quickly being dispelled by her obvious shock. The other night she was cool and in control. Even when he had managed to rock her a few times, it had been brief, and she hadn't wavered. Seeing her now, casually dressed in jeans and a paint-smeared tank top with her hair in a loose pony tail and clay up to her elbows, he had a feeling this was the real Jaqui, or whatever the J really meant. This Jaqui was one he might be able to get a few answers out of.  
  
Janna went to say something, anything really, but she only managed to make an odd noise, something that a hamster would make when caught in a blender, but louder. Run go move get out run hide he's here so get out and RUN YOU FOOL! The cacophony of orders her mind was screaming finally got a set of instructions down to her legs. Unfortunately, they didn't give specific detail, so Janna was suddenly trying to accelerate backwards away from Antonio. She might have made it had there not been a highly obtrusive piece of lint on the carpet. Her bare foot tangled in it, and she was suddenly sprawled on the floor, flat on her butt.  
  
Her eyes closed for a moment, and she prayed that when they opened, this would all be a very, very bad dream. Her eyes flicked open, and obviously prayer was not working. Maybe God was a little pissed over breaking a few of those ten commandment thingies. Instead of being gone, Antonio was crouched beside where she was splayed out on the floor, an amused grin curving the lines of his mouth. "Are you injured?" he asked in a tone that made her so want to hit him. "I did not mean to distress you."  
  
"I am quite well," she replied, some part of her mind obviously thinking since the words came out with a French accent. She didn't notice his flicker of disappointment at her calmness. "If I seem distressed, it is because I got clay on the rug, and it is very expensive and difficult to clean as I have learned from painful experience in the past and my cousin is going to be quite upset that I did it again after swearing to not take clay near it ever again and YOU ARE IN MY FUCKING LIVING ROOM!" Her words, having started evenly and almost casual, suddenly rose into a hysterical scream.  
  
Antonio flinched back for a moment, not expecting that scream. He wanted to surprise her, not make her come unglued on him. For a moment the absolute fury in her eyes made him regret showing up like this. If she had a weapon within hand's reach, he had a feeling that he would not have an easy time getting it from her. Showing up had seemed like a really good idea, but now he was starting to think maybe a phone call would have been safer. Oh well. Too late to do anything about it. He had just better keep his groin clear of her knee at all times.  
  
A little primal scream had actually helped Janna get back some of her equilibrium. That and seeing Antonio flinch back a little when she did. She got back to her feet, still feeling a little unsteady. Should she get him out, and then call the twins? They couldn't stay here any longer. Security had been seriously compromised. Maybe Jaqui should now retire and have Cameron take over as the point man. Maybe they should just retire in general. This was so not good. Antonio was smart. It wasn't going to take much for him to start putting things together and figure out whom the clients really were.  
  
"Excuse me," she said calmly, getting up and stalking back into her studio. He was following her. Was that good? She could suppose it was better than him poking around the place. True, he couldn't get to the staging area downstairs unless he could figure out the six-digit security code, but if he looked around, he would see a lot more personal information than he should. Who was she kidding? He knew where she lived. That was too much information right then and there.  
  
Janna grabbed her sculpting tools and threw them in the large sink in her studio. She had to do something to keep her hands busy or else they were going to be aiming for Antonio's neck. Who the hell did he think he was following her and stalking her back to her home? She heard him come in as she cleaned the clay off of her knives and other carving tools.  
  
"I take it that you do not have many visitors here," he said, looking around the room. An art studio was the last thing he was expecting from Jaqui, but somehow, she seemed more like she belonged here than in that hotel the other day. Although, if she scrubbed her hands and arms any more, she might start removing skin.  
  
She stopped cleaning for a moment and shot him a cold glare over her shoulder. "It is very important to me to keep my personal and professional lives separate. My clients depend on me to keep them anonymous. The only way for me to do that is to keep myself private from contractors. I thought I made that clear the other night."  
  
"I must have been thinking about the movie when you said that," he replied lightly. She didn't answer or lose the glare. He wandered over to a picture on an easel. It was an abstract, not his favorite kind of art, but the light blue greens trailing lines into deep red tones had a certain something to it that appealed to him. It was simply signed "J.J.C" in an elegant twisting script. Pity. It would have been nice to get her name somehow. "I like this one," he commented. "Does it have a title?"  
  
"Creation," she muttered, her eyes still focused on her tools. As much as she wanted to stay pissed at him, her artistic ego enjoyed the praise.  
  
"Of Heaven and Hell?"  
  
"Humans and squirrels."  
  
The laughter was more startled out of Antonio than anything. He was not expecting that from her. He had nothing against squirrels himself, but obviously this young lady didn't hold them in the highest regards. It was like Luisa and seagulls. She didn't merely hate them. She loathed them. And just for a moment, he caught a tiny smile on Jaqui's lips. Most of the artists that he knew would have thrown a fit for laughing at something about their work. She had correctly interpreted that he wasn't laughing at her work, but found amusing the parallel that she was trying to express in the painting.  
  
"You are rather talented," he commented quite honestly, going to the sculpture she had obviously been working on before he came in. "It is hard to believe that you spend so much time setting up thefts for your clients to perform rather than spend it here creating these works of hard."  
  
She blew out a disgusted breath. "Must we get into this conversation again?"  
  
"We can wait for a bit while you show me some of your other work," he replied. "Then we can talk later about what you are going to do for me." One hand reached out to touch the sculpture on the table.  
  
Janna whipped around violently, gripping her sculpting knife, her sudden movement making Antonio pause for a moment, his fingers almost touching the clay. "That is it!" she hissed. "You invaded my privacy and destroyed the sweet anonymity of my home. You've made one accusation after the next and demanded information that I have refused over and over. I can forgive all that. But if you lay a hand on my art, I swear I will stab you in the head."  
  
Antonio slowly drew back his hand. "You are serious," he said wonderingly. She hadn't seemed at all like a violent person the other night, and except for that one moment when he came in, he didn't think she was at all physically dangerous. But now, he didn't want to put anything past her.  
  
"There are two things that I will always be serious about," she replied, taking her tools out of the sink and placing them on the towel lying on the counter beside the sink. She patted them dry as she continued. "My art and the safety of my clients. Both are of utmost importance to me. And right now, you are endangering them both." She went to her sculpture and carefully picked it up, shooting him a dirty look for daring to touch it. She gently placed the sculpture in a special plastic cabinet that had a humidifier in it to keep the clay damp and pliable until she was ready to work on it again.  
  
"Maybe you should call the police and have me removed," he said with a smirk.  
  
"If I wanted you removed, I know whom I would call," she replied menacingly. At least she was trying to be menacing. She was succeeding in looking adorable to him. Then again, he had no idea of what would happen to him if she called her favorite uncle, Zane, and said he was threatening her. Zane would believe Janna's story that he was a psycho stalker. And since it was doubtful that a body would be found, there wouldn't be many questions asked.  
  
"How long have you been in here today?" he asked suddenly.  
  
She looked at him suspiciously. There wasn't a clock in this room for a reason. The only way she knew that it was still daytime was from the window. "Since this morning," she replied cautiously.  
  
"Ah, that makes sense," he said with that smile that she wanted to punch. "You have obviously been breathing paint fumes for far too long." He ignored the little squeak of outrage she made and continued. "And I am willing to blame the bitchiness on your lack of food, so why don't you put on some clothes that will not scare children into having nightmares about demented clowns, and then I can feed you."  
  
Janna glanced down at her clothes. Okay, so the paint streaked jeans and tank top might be reminiscent of a clown, but gorgeous or not, he was so not getting away with that one. "GET OUT!" she screamed at him, pointing to the door. "Get out of my house! Get out of my life! Do not contact me in any way, shape or form ever again. Do not try to get information or threaten me or…"  
  
Her words were effectively cut off sharply when he grabbed her arm, yanking her to him, his lips meeting hers firmly. Janna tried to jerk back, but he already had his arms around her, holding her against him tightly…and holy hell, after a second, she was glad he did because she wasn't sure if she would be able to stand if he let her go.  
  
Antonio hadn't meant to kiss her. It was one of those things that were completely unplanned, but once in progress suddenly seemed like the best thing to have done at the time. It had cut off her rant, and he would be a liar if he had tried to claim he wasn't enjoying the feel of her against him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and somewhere from far away he dimly realized that he was just as caught up in that incredible kiss as she was. And that was the exact moment that there was a sudden explosion of pain.  
  
Janna took a step back, her knee coming down as Antonio crumbled to his knees. He was so not getting to her like that. She smirked down at him. "You're right," she announced. "I do need to change my clothes. I'll go change. You decide where you are taking me to eat." She sauntered out of the room.  
  
Antonio watched her go, a mix of irritation and admiration on his face. Why was she not acting like a normal girl? Normal girls do not kiss a man like that and then injure them. And she thought he was going to take her to dinner after that like nothing had happened? Not likely. He was going to…going to…a small smile touched the edge of his lips. He was going to admit that she evened the score and then take her out and see where the night went from there.  
  
*********  
  
It still wasn't fair; Janna thought as Antonio's fingers were tangled with hers as he walked her to her front door. He was just being so wonderful in order to find out where the necklace was. Maybe. He did seem like he honestly liked her. Oddly enough, he seemed like he liked her more for kneeing him earlier than just acquiescing to his kiss. It still so sucked that the best two dates in her life were under so many pretensions and lies and…and he didn't even know her real name. Damn it! He was funny and charming and a good listener and had the sexiest smile that she had ever seen gracing a human face.  
  
They talked about family, and she had finally admitted that she was an only child. He told her that he was lucky and told her about his sister Luisa and some of the problems she had caused. Janna wished that she could meet Luisa. They would probably get along rather well. Conversation had drifted all over, and she was so glad that he didn't try to pry into forbidden topics. Instead he asked her about her art, and what she liked to do the best and if she had anything for sale at a gallery. She didn't quite yet, but it did her ego a world of good to have such praise come from someone outside of her family.  
  
Janna couldn't help but to wonder what it would be like to sketch him. Both artistic and worldly sides were intrigued with the idea, but common sense had to stomp them both flat. She needed to leave tomorrow and be gone for a while. He needed to stop coming around and get used to the idea that this whole thing that was happening between them was going to not happen at all. But she did let herself enjoy the evening. They had dinner and then went dancing, and not just that get drunk and fling yourself about to loud music dancing either. They had slow danced for a while, a little stiff at first, but by the time the song was over, it would have been difficult to fit a piece of paper in between them. And that pretty much summed up the night right there.  
  
But it was now time for this good thing to come to an end. With more than a little regret, Janna unlocked the slide to the security panel, knowing that Antonio was watching how she got into her house. Well, he wasn't breaking in easily. The key only let her get to a numeric pad, and if he could memorize the twelve-digit code that she tapped in quickly, he deserved to get in and do whatever he wanted. Whatever he wanted. A little shiver ran through her at that thought. She unlocked the door and turned back to him, warring with herself if she should invite him in or not.  
  
"I am still not happy that you know where I live," she said firmly, and then smiled. "But I did have a wonderful time with you tonight."  
  
"As did I," he replied softly. He smiled at her playfully. "Does that mean I get to come in and look for a certain something?" he asked.  
  
Janna rolled her eyes. "I can guarantee your beloved necklace is not in any room of my house. Good night Antonio."  
  
He caught her wrist before she could leave. "Who said anything about a necklace?" he asked, the sensual undertones obvious.  
  
Janna couldn't help the blush that colored her cheeks. It wasn't a first date. Couldn't she invite him in now? No. Be good, she ordered herself. You tend to tangle up sex and emotion, and you know it. This is one person that you cannot get involved with. Just think what the twins would do to you, and then to him.  
  
"Good night Antonio," she repeated in a much softer tone. They both paused for a moment, and then leaned towards each other, their kiss soft and gentle this time, and if he hadn't pulled away when he did, she would have ended up a little Janna colored puddle oozing it's way through the doorway.  
  
"Good night Jaqui," he whispered, and then she was gone. He paused at the door for a moment, a small smile still lingering. She hadn't understood what he meant a moment before. "Jaqui, my dear, when did I ever mention that it was a necklace that was stolen from me?" he murmured to the door, and then quickly walked away.  
  
A car pulled up as Antonio walked around the corner. He got into the passenger's seat quickly, not sure what he was going to say. Marco looked at him expectantly, and then pulled back onto the street, heading into a more populated area of town. Marco was a bit surprised with the Conte. He wasn't expecting him for a few hours at least. When Antonio found out the thieves' contact was a woman, he had every confidence that he would be able to romance the location of the necklace out of her. At worst he was going to have to wait for them to steal it back before having them all arrested. After their first meeting, Antonio hadn't said much except that she was much more intriguing than he had thought. Marco assumed that meant she was going to be a bit tougher to seduce. Tonight should have been the night.  
  
"That was quick work," Marco commented. They had been friends since they were children, and he was one of the very few people that worked for the di LiCossa family that could get away with talking to the Conte like that.  
  
Antonio shrugged. "One minute I am convinced she knows where it is, the next I am not sure. She is…enigmatic."  
  
Marco scowled. "I could get it out of her in five minutes."  
  
Antonio looked at him sharply. "I will handle this myself, Marco. You will not approach her." Marco was a good man, and loyal to a fault. Antonio wasn't sure why, but for some reason, the thought of Marco interrogating Jaqui was just…nauseating. Jaqui was funny and sweet and even a little silly once the ultra-sophisticated veneer was removed from her. Antonio wanted to laugh remembering her falling when she saw him. There was no way that she was one of the thieves, he knew that for certain after seeing how uncoordinated she was, although on a dance floor she showed a great deal of grace. Maybe it was all relative. But he did not want Marco to talk to her. Marco would not be gentle in getting information out of her. And Antonio knew he would feel rather guilty for her getting badly hurt. He would come back tomorrow and try again then. This was going to be a little slower of a process, but in the end, he would have his thieves. He smiled. Once the clients were out of the way, it was quite possible that maybe, just maybe she would be more inclined to smile when he greeted her at the door and not slam it shut.  
  
Marco noticed Antonio's smile, and he didn't like seeing it one bit. That smile was not part of the strategy. This was professional. He had known Antonio for a long time. He knew when he liked a girl. And he liked this one. Very well then. He could like her all he wanted. Marco would just have to be the one to get the job done. 


	18. Return to Sender

"Nice place," Jon commented, looking around as he entered Heather's apartment.  
  
Heather smiled. "It's not bad. I can handle the rent on my own at least. It's only one bedroom but more just invites guests."  
  
"I can't say much about having guests at my place," Jon commented dryly. He let his bag slide off of his shoulder and onto her couch. "I seem to spend most of my time trying to get more." He looked questioningly at an object by the end table by the door. "Since when did you start wearing shoes like that?"  
  
Heather glanced over. The gold shoe was still there. Why had she thought it would be gone when she got back? Probably because she was still drunk at the time and believing in a shoe fairy. "I think I switched shoes with a hooker while I was in the bathroom at the bar the other night," she explained. "That part's still a little hazy."  
  
Jon started laughing. He would have loved to have seen her that trashed. She had been funny enough on the phone, but in person it had to have been hilarious. Maybe not though. He knew how else she got when she was drunk, and if she wasn't in the mood to take no for an answer, then he would have been in trouble. Well, maybe not too much trouble, he thought, taking note of how her rear looked in those slacks she was wearing. No, stop that. You know what her butt looks like, there's no reason to be thinking about it now.  
  
"It's not that funny," Heather said dryly. "I lost a rather expensive shoe."  
  
"Oh, the tragedy," Jon said melodramatically. "Is Mommy going to get you another pair, or one of your aunts for Christmas?"  
  
Heather did the most mature thing she could think of and stuck her tongue at him. "You do not even start that with me," she teased back. "You're just as much of a spoiled brat as I am."  
  
"I have not gotten everything I have ever wanted," he protested.  
  
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Name one thing you wanted that you didn't get."  
  
"I wanted a Viper when I graduated," he said firmly.  
  
Heather rolled her eyes. "I was there remember? I believe it was you who told your parents that you didn't want one since they were fighting over who was going to give it to you and thus prove they loved you more."  
  
"The point is," Jon countered, "I wanted one, but didn't get it. And I think it should also count that I also have felt the loss of losing something that I had and liked but couldn't keep."  
  
"Oh, and what would that have been?" Heather asked in a playfully disbelieving tone.  
  
Jon went to reply, but nothing was quite able to come out when his eyes met hers. He had been thinking about his pet snake that he had when he was nine. But there had been one thing in his life that he wanted more than anything, but he had to let her go in the end. And if he said he hadn't thought a million times about the "what ifs" then he would be lying through his teeth.  
  
"Umm…I…uh…" he stuttered. "Okay, you win; I'm just as spoiled as you. Where can I put my stuff?" he finished in a rush.  
  
Heather looked at him quizzically for a moment, but let it drop. "Bathroom is the first door on the left. You can put your suitcase in my bedroom if you want." She turned away quickly and went into the kitchen to get some water or something, anything to make her not think about Jon in her bedroom. This was getting ridiculous. She so needed to get away from him and get her head back in gear. It had been too nice having him on the flight back. She finally told him the whole story of why her and Ethan had broken up, and he suggested that Heather call him and tell him Katie was free. They talked for a while, and then Heather ended up falling asleep with her head on his shoulder. Still, they were friends. Just friends. And that was not going to change even if they were now both single. There was that matter of a small ocean in between their permanent residences.  
  
She checked her watch and sighed. The flight had been a little delayed, and now she was going to have to get moving quickly to meet Donnelly. Since he was doing her a big favor, she was going to have to work around her schedule there. "Jon," she called out. "I've got to get going if I 'm going to meet Donnelly on time."  
  
He came out from the bedroom. "Okay," he said. "You know, I was thinking about what you said earlier about giving them a copy of the police report to open up when they got here. I thought of something else you might want to consider doing to them."  
  
Heather smiled, feeling the evil already. Jon was usually such a nice guy, but when called to the ranks of doing something nasty, you did not want him playing against you. "And what did you come up with?" she asked.  
  
"I was thinking about a nice 8 X 10 framed picture from that footage we got of the thieves," he replied. "All wrapped up in shiny paper and have them unwrap it right in front of the family."  
  
Heather's laugh could be more accurately be described as a cackle. "That is perfect!" She laughed again. "Those little weasels aren't going to know what hit them. That is so great. Can you get a picture pulled from the footage while I'm gone? We can get the frames when I get back and wrap them all tonight."  
  
"No problem," he said, pleased with her enjoyment of his suggestion. He thought it was rather brilliant if he did say so himself.  
  
She was still grinning wildly. "That is so brilliant." She grabbed her purse, getting ready to leave. "I know I owe you for that, so just remind me to you know, bear you a child or something later."  
  
She took a step, and froze, realizing what she had just said. She used that expression all of the time, but not to someone that she had once seriously thought about being married to and really having kids with. From the way Jon's laughter was silenced, it struck him too.  
  
She glanced over her shoulder. "I meant…"  
  
"I know what you meant," he interrupted gently. "Just go now." She nodded and then left quickly. Oh yeah, some time apart was so needed.  
  
  
  
***********  
  
"So, what do you think?" Heather asked Donnelly. He had been going over the computer tracks that came from the di LiCossa's security system and trying to see if there were any signature paths in the hack.  
  
Donnelly pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose for a minute. Heather had called him from somewhere over the Atlantic and asked if he would come in on a Saturday and look over some stuff she was bringing in. It wasn't an official case, but something of personal research. This had intrigued him. But they had to keep it quiet. Chambers frowned on using multi-million dollar government equipment for personal research. Not that it stopped the computer specialists in HRT from helping the others, but it just made them more careful. For some reason, they were able to cover their electronic tracks quite well.  
  
"I would be proud to call this my work," he replied. "There are a few slips, but considering the anti-hacking and capture routines that were built into this, that's just flat out amazing." Heather had told him that a friend had asked her to look over the police reports and the like as a favor, but just left out the fact that her brother and sister and cousin were most likely the culprits. Heather didn't want anyone to think that she might have had a reason to kill them when the bodies were found.  
  
"Anything that might trace back to the origin?" she asked. She was still hoping ever so slightly that there might be some way that the trio wasn't involved. If this was done from a stationary location, they might be able to trace it down and hopefully it not be where the kids were living.  
  
Donnelly shook his head. "The tracer paths are so covered, it's scary," he replied. "Actually, you know what this reminds me of?" He tapped a few keys and another chart pulled up. He tapped a few places on the screen. "See that and that?" Heather nodded. She saw. Made no sense, but she saw it. "This is some charting of an old Eye's Only hack. What you gave me is so like what he used to do to cover his trail. If I didn't know better, I might say it was the same person."  
  
His back was turned, so he didn't see Heather's face wilt. How many times had she heard Aunt Max telling Uncle Logan that Janna needed to get out of the computer room? The child was always on the computers or behind an easel. For some odd reason, Janna liked painting while her father was working. Logan had said that it was good for her to have diverse interests. As she got older, she hadn't seemed to still be into computers like she was when she was younger. At least, that's what they had thought. Little brat. She had just been giving everyone that cute little smile like her mother's and making everyone think she only used a computer for e- mail now.  
  
Donnelly turned around. "Sorry I couldn't be more of a help," he said, misinterpreting Heather's expression. "This is really important isn't it?"  
  
She nodded. "To my friends it is," she replied, trying to sound the right amount of disappointed; the way you would feel if something happened that you felt bad about, but didn't affect you personally. "Unfortunately, the Italian police aren't as sophisticated as we are, and I can't do an official thing since it's a little out of our jurisdiction, but I promised I would see."  
  
"Don't blame you there," he replied. He started packing up his equipment. "You want me to leave these printouts?"  
  
Heather nodded. "Yeah. I'm going to go over a few things, and send it over to my friends in case there's something they can use."  
  
Donnelly left, and Heather spread the stuff out over the desk. He might not know how Eye's Only covered his tracks, but she did. Maybe there was some way to use that to find the tracing. Even if they could get it back to a single laptop or computer or even a static IP address, then the little brats would be so busted. Heather didn't think she could turn them over to the Italian authorities, but they might beg for her to do that rather than turn them over to their parents.  
  
Heather wasn't sure how much time had passed when Chambers spoke up from behind her, startling her back to reality. "Agent Raleigh, aren't you supposed to be moving from Chicago?"  
  
Heather spun around quickly. What the hell was he doing here on a Saturday? He had a family. He should be taking them Christmas shopping or visiting Grandma or something. "Well, actually, I was able to find a place when we had that weekend off. And then my parents surprised me by having my old apartment moved there, so I'm pretty much done in the moving department. I don't have to be in New York for a few more days, so I was working on some stuff before I had to leave."  
  
He looked pissed. Of course she had yet to see him not look pissed. What was the deal with that? He didn't seem like he was on permanent-dislike of the others, including the newest members of HRT. Was it because she broke into the all-boys club? But, none of the others seemed upset that she was there. Maybe he was just an ass.  
  
Chambers glanced down at the papers on the table, and his scowl deepened. "Eye's Only?" he asked.  
  
She felt herself flushing. She hadn't felt like this since she was a teenager getting caught doing something she wasn't supposed to be. "Well, see…"  
  
"Agent Raleigh, the FBI is not a vehicle for agents to satisfy personal curiosity," he interrupted coldly. "We all would like to know who he is and where he went to, but that case has long since been closed. I myself would love to investigate it if it was ever reopened, but in the meantime, the Bureau's resources are not to be wasted, am I understood?"  
  
Heather wanted to protest, but thought better of it. His assumption was a hell of a lot easier than explaining what she was really doing. "Yes, sir," she said meekly, and started to gather her paperwork as he left. Jerk. Oh well. Jon should have gotten the pictures done by now, and they could get some dinner and the frames, and tomorrow things were going to get very, very interesting. 


	19. Holiday Cheer

The room would have looked positively Christmas cheerful if it weren't for the evil intent that the gifts were being wrapped in along with the colorful paper. Heather and Jon took extra care making sure the three identical packages were wrapped just so with all of the creases neat and the bows on tightly with little curling ribbon to decorate them. Heather had to admit that the pictures being given to them at the airport were going to be so much more eloquent than reading them a copy of the police reports from Italy on Christmas Eve.  
  
But now the pictures were wrapped and just waiting to be opened when the twins arrived home. Heather was still debating on if they should wait until Janna came home too, or just let her walk into a private ambush later. Maybe the former would be better. Jon wanted to be there when it happened, and he really couldn't stay away for long. The longer it took the longer he would have to stay. Maybe it would be best to wait for Janna.  
  
Heather had to suppress a little shiver at that thought. She did not need to be thinking along those lines. He did not live here. They were friends, and that was why she was glad to have him there, no other reason. But it had been so great that day while they were out shopping for the frames. Twice he had grabbed her hand to get her attention, and for a moment, her heart had almost stopped. It was almost like being touched with electricity, and Heather thought that Jon might have felt the same way too, but she really wasn't sure. He had this odd expression, but that could mean anything. Besides, he had just ended a long-term relationship mere hours before. All of this was just imagination and stress and how incredible falling snow looked when it glistened off of his dark blonde hair.  
  
"Well," she said quickly, standing up and grabbing the gifts. "Now we just wait for them to come home and make sure we got a camera on their little faces when they open these up." She had a bag she was planning on carrying on the plane with her, and tucked the pictures safely and securely in it. She was going to get there before them, so the whole family would be present to keep them from running. Heather had to admit that she was almost looking forward to this.  
  
Jon got up and went into the kitchen to get some coffee. He really hoped that the kids would be able to get the necklace back. Either way, this was going to stop their little crime spree, and he had to admit, he was glad to be in on it. When they were kids, those three were such problem children. He had started to hate taking Heather home, and not because he wanted her to stay with him. He had unidentified substances dumped on him twice and them there was the time that him and Heather had made out on the back porch, and they had managed to video it. That was a tense week until Heather had found the tape and beat the crap out of both of them. And that was just the little stuff. There was plenty of sneaking out and parties and Jon knew they would have been arrested a couple of times had they not had the ability to know when the cops were about to show up and get the hell out of there. Well, this time ESP was not going to help them in the slightest.  
  
"Want some coffee?" he yelled to Heather.  
  
"Absolutely," she called back. Jon was amused to find himself immediately reaching for the creamer next to the coffee maker. He liked his black, but after all this time, he still knew how to make it for her. Funny how some things never fade over time.  
  
Heather was closing up the bag when he came back in and handed her the cup of steaming liquid. She sipped it, smiling at how he had made it just how she liked it without being reminded. She was lucky to have a friend like him. Friend. Yeah. Just friends. More in the past, but they were just friends now. Really good friends at that. Really lucky. Friends. Yeah. Those incredible blue eyes of his were smiling at her.  
  
"You remembered to add creamer," she said, trying to make it come out lightly, not wanting him to see that him standing so close, his finger grazing hers when he handed her the cup, it was all affecting her so much.  
  
"You think I'd forget that you were all big and bad but can't take your coffee straight up?" he replied teasingly. The playfulness faded. "You're a very hard person to forget anything about."  
  
For a second, Heather couldn't speak. The only thing that would have come out was a squeak at any rate. She was misreading that remark, she told herself quickly. You're just having a traumatic week, and he's here and being sympathetic and you're misinterpreting the sentiment behind the statement. She put her cup down on the end table by the couch, for once not caring if it left a ring on the wood.  
  
"So…um…" she stuttered. "Next move isn't until tomorrow and we go to New York and they show up," she said. They had been so busy and now it felt weird to have to just wait.  
  
"So," Jon said, "what do you want to do until then?"  
  
She shrugged. "I didn't exactly make plans for tonight. Anything special come to mind for you?" God, why was he standing so close to her?  
  
Jon didn't answer. Words weren't needed when he touched her face, nearly making her pass out right then and there. She didn't even notice him put down his coffee as he ran his fingers down her cheek, gently tilting up her chin, and then leaning over, pressing his lips against hers softly. She stiffened suddenly, and for a second he thought that she was going to push him off of her, but once they touched, there was no way he was going to be able to let her go. And then she totally melted against him, her arms wrapping around his neck, holding him as tightly as he was holding her. It had been so long since he had kissed someone like this, to the point of feeling like he was blending into her.  
  
The feeling of Jon kissing her again was a shock to Heather. It was so familiar and still new somehow. The one thing she wanted was for it to never end, and from the way he was holding her so close to him, he didn't seem like he was planning on going anywhere for a while. The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate so naturally and easily it was scary. It was like they had never been apart at all. Apart. They had really been apart. What had she been smoking to convince herself that all there would ever be was friendship between them? They always would be friends, but this…this would always be there too. And it was time to face facts on that one.  
  
The moment ended, and they pulled apart slightly to get a breath of air, but neither of them seemed the slightest bit interesting in getting untangled. Their eyes met, and Heather wanted to cry for all that she saw burning in his. Passion and desire, yes, but there was something else…something that might be…might be…  
  
"Did I ever tell you when exactly I fell in love with you the first time?" she whispered.  
  
Jon shook his head, too dazed to speak. No matter how many women he had dated, none had ever compared to this one. And there had been many nights that he had lain awake at night with a girlfriend snuggled up to him, but he was lying there wondering what life would be like if it was Heather next to his heart. That was where she belonged. God, he was so stupid to ever let her go. But still, she had never said when she had started to love him as a kid.  
  
"Remember that time we were over at your uncle's place and there was that bad storm?" she asked.  
  
Jon nodded, remembering it very clearly. It was the spring after they had started dating, and Jon decided to go to Utah for spring break since his parents were fighting over him yet again. Heather had been given permission to go with him. That had shocked the hell out of her considering what had happened the last time she had left home on her own, but they weren't going to question it. Then his aunt and uncle had to leave for the day, and wouldn't be back until very late that night. Him and Heather had been outside hiking, and a storm had blown over the mountains. Figures. One of the very few storms they got out there and it had to happen while they were a half-mile from home. And that was when Heather remembered that her clothes were still on the laundry line. A bottle had broken in her suitcase, covering her stuff in lotion. His aunt refused to have a dryer there since she liked the smell of things dried outside the most.  
  
"We got back, and I was soaking wet and all of my clothes were out on the laundry line," Heather said, oblivious to the tear that snaked down her cheek. "And I couldn't wear anything of your aunt's since she was so small, so I just stole your t-shirt. Then we curled up on the couch together, all wrapped up in that blanket and I fell asleep on you. You didn't try anything with me at all right then, and most guys would have. I had told you that I wasn't ready for anything when we left, and you promised to respect that. I was cold and wet and tired, and then I woke up and I had never felt so at ease in my life when I felt you still holding me. You were still awake and all you were doing was playing with my hair. And that was when I fell in love with you."  
  
"The first time," he said softly, echoing her words from earlier, wondering if she was meaning what she seemed to be.  
  
"Actually, there isn't a second time," she said, emotion choking her voice. She smiled, a small laugh escaping. She couldn't help but be thrilled by the sudden disappointment in his eyes. "There can't be," she repeated, "because the first time never ended. Jon, I…"  
  
Her words were cut off by another kiss, this time Jon almost lifting her off of the floor. Or maybe she was lifting both of them. Who knew? Who cared? For right then, they were together and that was all that mattered.  
  
It seemed almost magical to Heather as they clung to each other. Absolutely heavenly to feel his hands and lips touching her, making her want to cry for the sheer perfection of the moment. She shrugged off the blazer she had been wearing; her head back so that he could keep kissing her neck. She had forgotten what it was like to be like this with someone. It was easy enough to be intimate with someone that attracted you and cause lust to rise, but this was more than that. Lust could be turned off in an instant. This was an all-consuming need to be with him, to hold nothing back and get everything in return.  
  
Jon wasn't sure what had possessed him to kiss her, but the moment they did, he knew how right it was. How right they were together. Nothing had changed. Nothing that mattered at least. It was her then and it was her now and the rest of it was just something to deal with later. He had to pause for a second to catch his breath, and that was when he noticed that she had slid off her blazer. Why was she removing clothes unless…  
  
Their eyes met, the question unspoken. "Bedroom," Heather murmured.  
  
Jon thought that he had to be dreaming. He had dreamt about this enough; he had to be getting ready to wake up. This was real. Oh God, this was really real. "Are you sure?" he whispered, half expecting to wake up at any second and find himself alone on the couch or something.  
  
She kissed him again, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. "Don't make me carry you off," she warned. Whatever Jon might have said in response was lost in a passionate kiss, this time their hands starting to tug at each other's clothes as they made their way down the hall and into her room.  
  
*********  
  
Heather lay on her side, watching Jon sleep. He was sprawled on his stomach, somehow managing to end up in the middle of the bed and taking up all of the room. The only thing he didn't have was the entire blanket around him, but that was only because she was quicker and managed to get it around her first. Some things didn't change though. He still slept with one leg sticking out from under the sheet, just like she remembered.  
  
Even in the dark she could still see the scars on his lower back, and on the back of his left leg. She shivered, the memory of how he got them still capable of bringing tears to her eyes. He had been up in Utah, and there was a girl that had gotten drunk at some party. She wandered off, and they were looking for her. Jon had found her, and put her on the back of the snowmobile, and went to take her back. But the girl was still to drunk to think straight. The last thing Jon remembered was her yelling about wanting to go over there, and she grabbed his lower arm, shoving it so that he turned the throttle higher, and the controls twisted.  
  
The other rescue people had filled in the rest. They hit a tree, and both of them went flying. The girl planted her head into a large rock, breaking her neck and crushing her skull. She died a few hours later. Jon had sustained serious injuries to his back and leg. He was taken to the nearest medical facility and was in surgery for hours. One of Jon's fellow S & R people had called Heather and told her what happened, and she was on the next flight out there. The news wasn't good. He was going to live, but there was so much swelling around his spine that he was paralyzed. It might ease and he could walk again, but nobody was sure.  
  
Heather stayed with Jon as much as possible, but they had kicked her out when they told him his prognosis. She'd come back in after the doctors and his parents left to find him staring at the ceiling, his face stony. "They said I might walk again," he snapped when Heather sat down beside him. He shook his head. "But I already know that I'm not." He was frustrated and angry and Heather had no idea what to say to him. She had seen him angry before, but never bitter like this.  
  
"Then we'll deal with that as it comes," Heather said, taking his hand. He didn't try to shake her off, but he wasn't responsive either.  
  
"You should probably go home," he said coldly. "You're missing school." This was supposed to just be him going up to Utah for a long weekend, and from the way things were going, it didn't look like he'd be back to school until next year. Heather had already missed almost a week. Like she cared.  
  
His words stung, but some instinct said that she had to stay. He needed to lash out at someone, and she was there. Most of all, she would forgive him. "I can make up school," she replied softly. "I'd rather be here with you."  
  
"Heather, I do not need to be pitied right now, okay?" he said like he was trying to restrain from yelling at her.  
  
"Pity?" she said, a bit of shock in her tone. "You think I'm trying to pity you? If I were trying to pity you I'd be telling you that it's going to be fine and you're going to be in the Olympics in a few years and be back in school next week. This is not pity. This is staying with you. This is being willing to stick with you and deal with everything because I love you. I loved you before you left, I loved you three weeks ago when we made love, I love you today, and I plan on loving you tomorrow. So don't you dare think that I am here out of something as hollow as pity."  
  
His fingers suddenly clinched around hers, and he finally looked at her. It wasn't anger that was tearing at him. That much was obvious. It was fear. He was scared, plain and simple. It was what he had refused to show to his parents or doctors or anyone else. Heather immediately leaned over and hugged him tightly, grateful to feel him hugging her back.  
  
"I was lying there thinking that maybe that girl was the one that got off lucky," he said softly.  
  
Heather pulled back; terrified that he would even say such a thing. "You're still breathing," she said. "You can still talk and think and be a person. "Maybe I'm just being selfish, but I'd rather have you paralyzed from the neck down as long as I could still talk to you and see your smile and know you were there for me than have you dead."  
  
A tiny smile touched his lips. "Under the circumstances, that might be one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me." Seriousness clouded his eyes. "I'm probably never going to walk again," he repeated.  
  
Heather nodded, not wanting to try and be deceiving in the slightest. "Maybe. Maybe not. Just believe that I will be here for you."  
  
He tugged her down to him and kissed her softly. "I love you. God, I'm lucky to have you."  
  
She grinned. "With all of the crap you've learned to put up with, I guess I owe this to you. What's a little paralysis when you have to deal with all those revved up…" her words trailed off and the grin faded. Revved up genes. Paralysis.  
  
"Heather?" Jon wanted to know what was worrying her. Had she heard something outside?  
  
She looked up sharply. A delighted little smile formed. "Revved up genes," she said softly. Jon blinked in confusion. Her grin widened. "I got to make a call. I'll be back in a few." Before he could protest, she scampered out of the room to make a phone call to her favorite doctor aunt in LA. It took almost twenty minutes of begging and pleading after she explained the situation, but Jhondie finally agreed to do it. Then Heather went back to Jon and told him a story about her Uncle Logan and how he had been shot and it damaged his spinal cord. A simple blood transfusion had changed his life, kick starting his ability to walk, and then a specialist in Kyoto had completed the process.  
  
Jhondie had come in from LA the next day, and while Jon's parents were gone having dinner and civilly blaming each other for the accident, Jhondie had set up the transfusion. She had warned them both a hundred times that Logan could have been a fluke, and neither of them was to get their hopes up. She also muttered a lot that she must be crazy to do this. Crazy or not, it had worked. Three weeks later, Jon took his first step on his own. Specialists that came highly recommended from Logan had helped, and Jon was able to walk back into his first class in May.  
  
They had both wondered if his scars would disappear like Heather's did, but that never happened. He didn't complain at all though. One doesn't complain after being the recipient of a miracle. That incident had brought them so close together though. They thought they would be able to last through anything after that. But they had broken up and gone their separate ways. Heather smiled a little. Their minds had broken off the relationship, but obviously their hearts hadn't.  
  
Heather lay there, quietly staring at his sleeping form, remembering the boy she had loved so very much and wondering whom exactly was this man in her bed. Jon stirred, his eyes opening, and then he smiled seeing her there. It was the same smile she had always loved and somehow the circle of their lives seemed to close and they were right back at the beginning where they belonged.  
  
Jon didn't know how long Heather had been watching him sleep, and quite simply, he didn't care. She was there. That's what counted. He pulled her back to him for a long kiss before she cuddled up against him, her head resting on his shoulder. If there was ever a moment in his life that he had felt more at peace with the world, he certainly couldn't remember it. This was what he had been missing in his life. Easy enough to see now.  
  
"So," Heather said softly, "isn't this where we're supposed to be freaking out and trying to get dressed and make excuses?" She snuggled a little closer to him.  
  
Jon's face was pressed lightly against her hair. He breathed deeply, enjoying her sweet fragrance. "I guess claiming to be drunk is out."  
  
"There's always the 'bad day – just happened' excuse," Heather said, looking up at him. He was being just as serious about this as she was. Good. They were both playing and knew it.  
  
"Yeah, there is that," he said, running a finger down her cheek. "I'm a little partial to 'second chance' though."  
  
"Hmmm…been apart for long enough to know you belong together?" Heather said, trying to sound playful, but unable to stop how her heart was accelerating at the thought. Jon was quiet for a long moment, and the sudden seriousness in his face worried her. Was she pushing things?  
  
"I love you." He blew out a breath, and smiled a little self- depreciatingly. "I can't believe I ever thought I stopped. I didn't. I still love you Heather. And I don't think that's ever going to change."  
  
Heather bit her lower lip lightly, trying to keep back the tears. Didn't help. They slid down her cheeks, the sheer joy in the moment overwhelming everything else in the world. So what if her family was going to be in total uproar in another day or so? Jon was back in her life. "I love you too," she managed to get out.  
  
They kissed again, this time the heat building quickly between them. There would be more talking to come, lots more of it. There were a lot of details they were going to have to work out to make a relationship work this time. But for now, talking could wait. They had better ideas on how to celebrate their reunion.  
  
They finally both drifted off into an exhausted slumber, still wrapped up in each other's arms. Heather only slept for a few hours at night anyways, but when she did, it was almost deep enough to be classified as a coma. And that was why when the phone rang, Jon grabbed it, more out of instinct than thought.  
  
"Hello?" he growled. There was a long pause. The voice on the other end was roughly the equivalent wake up call as having a bucket of ice water thrown on him.  
  
"Where's my daughter?" Zack demanded coldly. 


	20. Not Exactly the UPS Guy

Janna was highly annoyed that the best flight she could get wasn't until that night, but there wasn't any way around it. She decided to tell her parents that the instructor of the course she had been supposedly taking told the class that they could turn in their final project now if they wanted and call it early. Janna, being a good little student, already had hers done, so she came home as quickly as she could. It was a good enough story at any rate. She had thought about just going to London and hiding there until the right time to come home, but then changed her mind and decided that it would be better to have the Atlantic Ocean between her and Antonio rather than just the English Channel. This intense attraction thing was way too much for her to be handling right then.  
  
The doorbell rang, making every muscle in her body tense. And she couldn't help but be irritated with herself at the sudden hopeful thought that it was Antonio. No! Bad Janna! Bad thoughts. She knew damn well what he wanted. But still…this was just so not fair. Why was it that when she found someone gorgeous and funny and smart and great to talk to and could melt her with a kiss that he wanted her in jail? Maybe Mom would understand and she could talk to her about it.  
  
This time, Janna checked the outside camera before opening the door. A man in a brown uniform was standing there, holding a box and a signature pad. Delivery? That was odd. Maybe one of the twins had ordered something and forgotten to tell her about it. It wouldn't be the first time. Liz was always getting stuff for her car and couldn't remember half of what she had on order. Janna was always after her to get more organized and she wouldn't have to send so many duplicate orders back, but the girl just had a problem taking sound advice from her elder.  
  
Janna left off with the packing and went to the front door. "Yes?" she greeted when she opened the door.  
  
The man's smile immediately put Janna on high alert. That and the black eye he was sporting. Without hesitating, she slammed the door, but he managed to shove the box in the door a second before it could shut. He pushed his way in easily, grinning coldly at making her back up a few steps.  
  
"Good morning Jaqui," he said, the heavy Italian accent making the English hard to decipher. But it didn't take a linguist to understand intent when he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of pliers. "Antonio tried to be nice," he continued. "You should have told him what he wanted to know." He reached for her, the menace nearly visible as it flowed off of him. As Antonio had described her earlier behavior, she was already backing off. She was afraid. That was good. This wouldn't take long at all then and her nails would grow back soon enough.  
  
Antonio thought Janna was cute, if a little on the hyper side when she was angry. That was the information that he had passed on to Marco. He had made a minor miscalculation. He had not seen her angry. He had only seen her when nervous. Nervous Janna was a klutz unless she had her hands on a keyboard, and even then she wasn't allowed to have food or drink near her. It wasn't mentioned out loud, but Janna had done several art exhibits while in high school, and the day that they opened, everyone noticed that Max handed her daughter nothing breakable and would only pour her drinks half- full. When Marco made a grab for her, she wasn't nervous at all. She was fucking pissed. And Janna the Pissed was very obviously the child of a genetically engineered killing machine.  
  
She jerked back, his hands skating off of her. In an eye blink, her bare feet suddenly slid on the hardwood floor, dropping her into a split, going between his legs, and with every bit of strength she had, the heel of her palm slammed into his groin mercilessly. The breath wooshed out of him, and he froze, still leaning over slightly, his dark skin turning pale. Janna didn't waste a second. She finished the slide in between his legs, and spun around. Her legs came up and she kicked him hard directly in the kidneys sending him reeling into the wall.  
  
Janna knew she wasn't super-human strong like her cousins, but she worked out a lot, and maybe there was a tad extra strength in there somewhere. Maybe it was just from keeping up with the twins for so long. But she was just as skilled as they were in self-defense. Her mother wasn't that big on teaching her, but Uncle Zane wanted to make sure she would be able to scare off guys like him. It was coming in quite handy just then. He would be so proud. Well, almost.  
  
Janna grabbed a bronze statue out of the niche in the wall near them, and slammed it on Marco's head. He crumbled to the ground without a sound. Janna smiled. Now Uncle Zane would be proud of her. She looked at the still form. Now what?  
  
Antonio sent him, she thought bitterly. Tears suddenly burned in her eyes. He got bored with playing a game with her so he sent a goon to yank out her nails. She had thought…it was impossible, but the way he had looked at her…and when he kissed her goodnight…well, maybe it wasn't totally impossible. "Bastard!" she sniffed; kicking Marco in the ribs for good measure, wishing it was Antonio. He groaned, but didn't regain consciousness. She wished he would. Then she could kick his ass again and feel better.  
  
She grabbed Marco by the ankles, and yanked, making him slide across the floor. She dragged him into her studio, shoving him into the closet, and then grabbed some zip ties. A minute later, she was quite pleased with her handiwork. There was a metal pipe that ran around the bottom of her closet, and Marco's wrists were now bound together, and then to the pipe. His ankles were zipped together, and he wasn't going to be going anywhere and telling his master that Jaqui was a wimp now.  
  
His master. Antonio. She sniffed again thinking about him. Well, he had warned her he was ruthless. Fine. He could be ruthless. She could be too. She could be more than ruthless. She could be downright mean. She might just tell the twins and the three of them could each remove one of his body parts. He could fool her, but she fooled him first thinking she was all sweet and cute and stuff. Yeah. She was up on him there. She was…she could…she might.  
  
She let out a little sob, and stormed into her bedroom, wiping away the stray tears on her face. She emerged a minute later, bag over her shoulder and slammed the front door on her way out.  
  
She was going golfing. 


	21. Desperate Search

Marco not being in his room in the morning was not part of the plan. He was usually up and ready to go long before Antonio, so when Marco wasn't knocking on the door by the time that Antonio got out of the shower in the morning, he was already wondering what was wrong. There was a connecting door between their two hotel rooms, and Antonio knocked on it once. No answer. What the hell was going on?  
  
"Marco?" he called out, entering the room. It was perfectly quiet in there. He wasn't there. Downstairs, Antonio thought. He must have gone downstairs to get a paper. There was no way that he had left the hotel alone and possibly decided to pay a visit to a certain lady.  
  
Antonio went to the phone and dialed Marco's cell. It rang several times and then flipped to the voice mail. He slammed down the phone with a curse, worry and anger knotting his stomach. If Marco had done anything to Jaqui, he was going to…going to…well; Marco was going to learn why you did not cross the Conte di LiCossa.  
  
He raced down to the hotel garage, cursing again when he realized that Marco's car was gone. When they came to France, they had each gotten a car in order to make it easier to follow Jaqui and track her back to her base of operations. No wonder Marco had said yesterday that they should give back the car Antonio was using and stick with just the one since they knew where she was now. He must have been planning this from the beginning if Antonio should happen to fail. Marco had long been his mother's personal bodyguard. Obviously he had forgotten who the head of the family really was.  
  
A loud squeal echoed throughout the garage as Antonio tore out of there, black streaks extending behind the car as the rubber was left on the concrete floor. Nobody seeing him could mistake the fury in his eyes as he drove towards Jaqui's. She better not be hurt. Scared was fine. He would be able to handle scared. But Marco had better of not hurt her. Antonio wasn't ready to analyze why he was feeling so protective over the woman that had obviously set up his family to lose a priceless heirloom. He just knew that if anything happened to her, he would not be able to deal with it well.  
  
The overcast sky well matched Antonio's mood as he pulled up in front of Jaqui's. Grey and bleak. Marco's car was there. How long had he been there? What had he done to her? Antonio didn't care about the "no parking" sign as he slammed the brakes, sliding the car up against the sidewalk. He was out of the car almost before it stopped moving, and then froze suddenly, the elements of what he was seeing finally coming together.  
  
Marco's car was in the garage. Jaqui's, and he knew it well from following her, was not in there. And Marco was sitting on four flats. Was it possible? No. He was a big man, and she was a woman. There was no way she could have gotten away easily enough to drive, and knife his tires before leaving. Was she not alone? That was a possibility. She had mentioned cousins yesterday. Maybe one lived with her? That seemed likely.  
  
Antonio ran up the steps to her front door, pounding on it violently when he got there. No answer. Not that he really expected anything. Most people don't stop torturing someone to get the door. Antonio stood there for a moment and pressed his ear against the door. There was still silence inside. That was unusual. If you're going to torture someone in a private residence, then it was best to have music or something loud playing to cover their screams. Unless she was gagged. Still…  
  
He glanced down, and his attention was diverted to the small object resting on the ground. He picked up the golf ball gingerly. It was clean. Antonio stood there numbly for a moment, recalling their conversation about sports. She didn't participate much. She only played golf. And that was only when she was in a bad mood. The four punctured tired. The golf ball. How the hell did that little thing get away from a man like Marco?  
  
There was only one way he was going to find out, and that was to find her. She must have had someone with her there, and whoever it was, he was probably disposing of Marco right then. Antonio didn't think Jaqui was the killing type, or God knew, he would be dead already, but Marco was probably more seriously injured than after dealing with her clients. The clients. One had beaten the holy hell out of Marco during the theft. Maybe that's whom Jaqui was with. Could it be that she wanted to know if they would be interested in getting the necklace back? Putting them in jail, exposing the little ring, none of that mattered anymore. If she did feel bad and want to return it…well, forgive and forget was more than possible.  
  
Antonio got back in his car and thought about where she might be. She went to play golf. She didn't say that she liked to go somewhere and just swing at the balls; she liked to play. She would have to be at a course then. Where? Public? No. That wasn't her style. She liked having her privacy. There was one place that wasn't too far away that was a rather upscale club. They had driven past it following Jaqui as a matter of fact. There was a slight problem though. Was she Jaqui to them, or whatever the JJC really stood for? He was going to find that out rather quickly, now wasn't he?  
  
He threw the car into gear and then headed to where the club was. If she was mad, it stood to reason that she wouldn't want to go far to get the stress out. Of course, women and reasonableness were not always close companions. Still, it seemed like as good of a place as any.  
  
There was a guard at the front gate. Of course there would be. He was worried about Jaqui and this man was going to delay him. Antonio sighed to himself. Well, he knew how to handle these types. The guard poked his head towards the window, not leaning out far enough to get wet in case a few drops should start falling.  
  
"Are you on the guest list?" he asked.  
  
"I doubt that you will find the Conte Antonio di LiCossa on some list," he replied coldly, "but if that is what you require, then call your club manager and fix it." People that worked in places like this had a knack for telling the real from the fake. The guard took one long look at him, the arrogance and that air of superiority all wrapped up in a silk suit that sure as hell wasn't off the rack, and leaned back in, grabbing the phone. Antonio heard a few clipped words, and then the guard was handing him a pass. Antonio graced him with a sneer, and then drove towards the clubhouse.  
  
He drove to the front door, tossing his keys casually to the valet. A tall, thin woman was standing near the front door, and rushed down. "Monsieur," she said, blocking him. "I am Blanche Fouinon, the manager of the club. You are Conte di LiCossa?" Antonio knew what this was. She was going to give him a cute little question and answer session, and then she would know if he knew the right people and places to let him stay. Unfortunately, he didn't have the time for cuteness.  
  
"Madame," he said quickly, "forgive my rudeness, but I am in a hurry. I am quite late, and I should not want to have the person I am meeting to be any more angry at me than possible." He paused for a moment. "Perhaps you can tell me where she is. Young woman, early twenties with dark curly hair." He took a leap. "An American. She lives in France though."  
  
Blanche smiled. "Miss Cale? Of course I know her. She came through a bit ago heading to the golf course. You were to be meeting her for her tee off?"  
  
Antonio took the second to give her a charming smile. Miss Cale was it? "I was," he said, trying to sound charmingly embarrassed. From the way her face was shining, it was working. "Which is why I am in such a hurry now. I must go and beg her forgiveness now and make my lady happy again."  
  
"Of course," she replied, enjoying the sweet love story unfolding in front of her. "Henri can tell you which trail she decided to take. I believe there are a few golf carts left this morning."  
  
Antonio took her hand and kissed it lightly. "I am forever indebted to you, Madame," he said, meaning it far more than she could understand.  
  
It was quite possible that finding her was far too easy. Perhaps if finding her had been more difficult, then other things would have balanced out a bit better. Henri told him about which hole she should be at then, and was able to give him a cart. Of course, with Madame Fouinon's blessings on him, he would have gotten a club cart if that were all that was available. He drove down the lane, his eyes darting around to the golfers on the course. The first few drops of rain that had been threatening all morning were starting to fall, and he worried that she might go in before he found her. And then finally, there she was. Had he thought about it, it might have frightened him a little to know that he knew her by silhouette alone.  
  
However, thinking was going to have to wait. She was ignoring the rain as she lined up her next shot. He pulled up as she took a swing, the club hitting the ball with a thump that was smothered by the snarled curse that she let fly with the ball. She glanced back at whoever was interrupting. Their eyes met. Time seemed to stop. Until of course, the first club of several came flying towards him in a hail of rain and cursing. 


	22. Family Reunion

For a moment, Jon would have sworn he was seventeen and had just gotten caught in bed with his girlfriend. All thoughts of "we're adults and this is something adults do" were totally unable to come out of his mouth as he held the phone, wishing to God he had let Heather answer it. Where's his daughter? Well, Mr. Raleigh, she's right here in bed with me, want to talk to her? Jon wondered if Switzerland would be far enough away to keep Heather's father from coming after him.  
  
Don't be worried, he told himself. They knew we were together for a long time. They had to have known that we were lovers back then. And Heather is an adult now. Of course she's slept with guys she dated. They had to know that, right?  
  
Heather was awake, her concern at seeing his expression obvious. How to handle the situation? He handed the phone to Heather. "It's your dad," he explained. Her blue eyes went huge for a moment, but she took the phone.  
  
"Hi Daddy," Heather said cheerfully. There was a long, agonizing pause at the other end. Heather bit her lip, trying to keep herself from blurting out some apology and explanation all at once. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. The man had four children. He knew what a man and a woman did when they cared about each other. And Mom had told her about when they had first met. It wasn't like she had known Jon for just a few hours at least. Why did she feel like a teenager all of a sudden?  
  
"I wanted to make sure you were up in time for your flight," her father finally said calmly. Heather wasn't fooled by the blandness in his tone. He wanted to know what the hell was going on, and it would be much better for her to just confess. Nothing to confess, right? She was an adult now.  
  
"We.um.I mean, I.uh.the alarm was going to go off in about ten minutes," she said, glancing at the clock. "I'll be there right on time." She took a deep breath. Might as well let them know. "Actually, I'm bringing someone with me. You remember Jon Hamilton, right?"  
  
"Is that who answered your phone?" he asked.  
  
"Um, yes." Please let Mom be at the airport. She'll understand. More importantly, she had the combat training to keep Dad from doing something stupid.  
  
Another pause. "We'll see you both in New York then," he said, the statement almost sounding like a threat.  
  
"Okay," Heather replied. "See you all in a few hours." There was the usual good-bye grunt on the other end, and then the phone went dead. Heather collapsed back onto the pillows.  
  
"Next time, you're sleeping on the side with the phone," Jon said, lying beside her, neither of them touching the other.  
  
She sighed. "I missed one flight in college. ONE flight. Now Dad calls me and makes sure I'm awake every time I have a morning flight. I know him. He'll be calling me when I'm forty. I know he will."  
  
"So, what's my life expectancy once we get to New York?" Jon asked, trying to lighten the mood a little. So what if someone knew they slept together. It wasn't like they were planning on keeping it a big secret anyways. This was not going to be a one-night stand.  
  
"Well, if you were Ethan then I would say about five minutes since Mom didn't like him much, and Dad would be morally obligated to kill the guy for deflowering his daughter," Heather replied matter-of-factly.  
  
Jon rolled onto his side to look at her, sure she was teasing him. "Unless I was severely delusional as a kid, wouldn't that have been me?"  
  
Her eyes flipped to his face. "Jon, you're alive. Do you really think I told my father that we slept together?" Jon looked at her for a minute and realized that she wasn't joking. She gave him a small smile. "Fathers do not want to think that their little girls had sex. Ever. I don't think he's going to accept it until I have a kid and there's no way to refute it."  
  
"So, your parents never knew?" Jon's parents did, but that was only because his Dad had found some condoms in his room when he was searching for his favorite tie in Jon's closet. Dad blamed seeing his mother cavorting with different men (ignoring the line of early-twenties beauties he had on his arm) as the reason Jon thought he needed to have sex with a child to prove himself a man. Mom said Dad didn't provide him with a decent male role model so of course sex was the way Jon was going to express himself. Jon ended up walking out on that argument and neither of them noticed. They didn't want to listen to the fact that him and Heather were the same age, so it wasn't like it was statutory rape. And neither of them would accept it when Jon tried to explain that Heather was the only girl he had been with and that was only after they had been together for over a year, and that he loved her very much.  
  
"Mom did." Heather didn't tell him that Mom knew the first night. Heather had come home, and her mother had just looked at her and asked if she was all right. Heather said she was fine. That was the discussion for that night but they talked a lot more later on. "We had a few heart-to-hearts before it happened, and she knew that we probably would, and then later, she was glad it was with someone that I loved and not just a passionate moment in the backseat of a car with some guy."  
  
"So I just need to keep her between me and your father at all times?"  
  
Heather laughed, pulling him down to her for a kiss. "Dad is going to be happy that I'm happy. And then he's going to be so busy trying to keep from killing the twins, he's not even going to think about you."  
  
Jon had to laugh at that. So there was a very important reason now to bust the kids as soon as possible. He kissed Heather again. "You don't mind sacrificing your two siblings for me?"  
  
She shrugged. "Benefit of having cat DNA. They'll land on their feet." Her arms wrapped around him tighter. "You know, we really do have some time before we have to get going. And we are all packed and ready."  
  
"Good thing we can share the shower then," Jon murmured back, his lips against her neck. "Save on time there too."  
  
Heather thought about saying something back, but why waste time when there were so many things much more pleasant that her mouth could be doing right then?  
  
***********  
  
Heather had enjoyed her flight back to the US quite well, but nothing could beat the flight to New York. It was only about an hour, but her and Jon couldn't stop smiling and laughing at each other, and in general acting like a couple of dopey kids. The stewardesses were smiling at them and couldn't help but to think that they had to be newlyweds to seem so happy and in love. It was partially that. The thought of nailing the twins to the wall was also putting them in a joyous mood.  
  
The twins were scheduled to arrive about twenty minutes before Heather and Jon's flight, so everyone was still going to be at the airport. Heather couldn't wait. She was looking forward to seeing Daniel and Cyra and Tanya as well. It was going to be a great little family reunion. Max and Logan were supposed to be there too. Janna wasn't due for a bit, but they wanted to have the whole holiday thing with the family bit going by the time she arrived. Heather was still debating on if they should wait for Janna to show up to spring their little trap. Maybe it would be best to torture her and have her know what she was coming in for. Maybe they should let the three of them have an interesting Christmas morning.  
  
It felt wonderful to have her hand in Jon's when they came out of the little port connecting the terminal to the plane and there was the majority of her family that she hadn't seen in months right there. Her mom stepped out first and hugged her, and then she was enveloped by her dad and brother and Tanya hanging on her leg demanding to look at this and even a hug for the wayward ones and Cyra was already glowing, no hiding it for much longer and Max and Logan were happy to see her. Less than a minute and she was already exhausted.  
  
Jon was very glad when Mrs. Raleigh gave him a quick hug, and Daniel shook his hand and said he was glad to see him. The important part was that they were both in between him and Heather's dad. Daniel was smirking, so it was obvious that he had a clue about the phone call that morning. And there was the fact that Heather was beaming.  
  
Daniel looked at Jon and then at Heather. He looked back at Jon with an eyebrow raised in question. Jon shrugged slightly, knowing without hearing words what he was asking. He grinned. "I just had to see her again," he answered, and Daniel grinned wider.  
  
"Welcome back to the family," he said softly.  
  
It was hard for Heather and Jon to look at the twins without breaking into evil laughter. They were both looking very well, happy and tanned and seemed to be quite pleased with their life in Europe as they answered Max's questions about where they were living and how everything was going. Heather bit her lip hard when Liz told them about a customer at the diner that kept coming in there and propositioning her for marriage. This was going to be so fun.  
  
Jon couldn't resist. "You know, I have to go to the Riviera in a few months for a meeting. I'll have to have everyone come into the café and have you two wait on us," he commented casually, trying not to look at Heather. They both would have ended up on the floor in hysterics had they made eye contact, especially at Liz's expression. She looked like she had just swallowed a live frog.  
  
"That'd be cool," Liz managed to get out in a pleasant enough tone. Mom and Dad didn't notice. Cam had them distracted talking about some other things. Little brats always knew how and when to tag team them. But Daniel noticed. Investigative journalists were trained to notice small details like changes in tone and expression. Now was not the time to question though. He'd get some answers from both of his little sisters later.  
  
"So, been able to get any more work on the article done?" Liz asked Daniel, wanting to change the subject.  
  
(you getting bad vibes from jon?)  
  
(too covered with all that just had sex thing to tell what's really going on in there but don't like the feel of what's underneath at all)  
  
(ack.don't even want to go there then.don't want to know about them doing it)  
  
(still don't like what's coming off of him)  
  
(me either.he'll let it slip and we'll get it then)  
  
"Well, I was finally able to get Jhondie in the same room as Justin for a few hours and get the rest of their interview done," Daniel replied. He shook his head. "I swear, those two are impossible sometimes. The first time we scheduled it, we get ten minutes into it and then there was a twenty-six-car pile-up on the highway, and the hospital staff didn't care that Jhondie is chief of staff and had been told she was to be left alone that day. They wanted every trauma surgeon in the state at the hospital. Then that thing in Uganda went down, and Justin was racing out there to get in on it, and then Jhondie had that conference to go to. It's taken a while, but I got most of it done. Now a few more things, and I can finish it."  
  
"Can't wait to read it," Liz replied with a smile. "That is so going to have everyone in a total uproar."  
  
"That's why a lot of names and identities have been changed," he said. "But, there's still a long way to go before it hits the stands, and I promised Cyra no working until after the holidays."  
  
Conversation ebbed and flowed around what everyone was doing and how Heather's job was going and Jon's resort. Logan mentioned that some friends of his had just come back from there and recommended it highly to them. Jon promised a family discount if him and Max decided to take a vacation out there. Jon had never met Tanya before, and she quickly charmed him into a doting uncle before they could get out of the airport garage. Daniel could only roll his eyes in disgust at his daughter's ability to get anyone to do her bidding at a snap. His fault though. He shouldn't have married such a beautiful woman and made a gorgeous child with her.  
  
Daniel and Cyra had a three-story townhouse in a residential section of New York. It was actually quite a nice area with a backyard big enough for a proposed puppy to play in and plenty of room for guests. And a huge kitchen. Cyra loved to cook, and one of their requirements for a house was a kitchen big enough for her to enjoy cooking in. Daniel swore the only reason he hadn't gained fifty pounds since getting married was because he was so busy chasing after stories. Cyra offered to trade him for chasing a genetically revved toddler all day long. He declined the offer.  
  
They piled into the family room, trying to figure out who had what luggage and what room it was going in when Heather yelled out. "WAIT!" she cried. All eyes were suddenly on her. She shot Jon a glance and he smirked lightly. She grinned. "I've got something for Cam and Liz, and I wanted them to see it right away."  
  
The twins glanced at each other and then back to their sister. This wouldn't be the first time that she had seen something that reminded her of them and had picked it up. Heather liked giving people little surprises. She said it was what made her such an excellent agent at the FBI. They plopped down on the overstuffed sofa that was Tanya's favorite spot to jump off of. "What is it?" Liz asked.  
  
Heather reached into her bag over her shoulder and pulled out the purple wrapped package and the green one, their favorite colors, and handed each one the gift. "Go on and open it," Heather said excitedly, her eyes sparkling. With another glance at each other, and mental assurances that they had no idea what was going on, Cam and Liz tore into the boxes while the rest of the family looked on curiously. Alicia's mental warning alarm was going off. Yes, Heather liked to give gifts. But not when she was still standing, her arms crossed with a challenging stance. A subtle glance at Zack and she knew he could see it as well.  
  
It was too late to stop them. Both twins had their gift open and froze. Cam was better at guarding his expression, but his jaw still dropped as Liz's eyes went huge, her face paling. No. No! No no no no no no no no! This was not.no.impossible.oh God.no.they looked up at their sister still hovering over them. Her friendly smile had tucked itself into a cold grin of triumph, eyes sharp and piercing.  
  
Heather didn't say anything. She didn't have to. The single phrase "gotcha" was already ringing in the air. 


	23. The Parents

The twins had been in so many tight situations before that they had thought nothing could faze them anymore, especially when they were close enough to have mental contact. They were smarter than most people. Faster, stronger, more capable of dealing with anything. Getting caught was simply not a possibility. Being stalked by one of their own had simply never crossed their minds before. How was anyone to know? The pictures in their laps and the look on Heather's face was clear. She did know.  
  
Both of them almost unconsciously glanced at the two doors in the room. Heather caught the glance, and the doors immediately swung shut with a flat bang. The window locks caught and turned in place, sealing the room shut. Everyone else had a rather comical "what the hell" look, and it was time for the whole family to know what the little brats had been up to.  
  
"You missed a camera," Heather said coldly to her brother and sister. "It was on a security light."  
  
"And I've been a friend of the di LiCossa family for quite a while," Jon added. He was going to say more, but the "oh shit" expression on their faces said that they understood the chain of events quite well.  
  
"Heather, is there something you need to tell us?" her father asked. It wasn't a question so much as it was a command. Max recognized the tone, but she hadn't heard it used to that degree in a very long time.  
  
Heather ignored their desperate final look begging for clemency. She gestured towards them "Weasel one and Weasel two decided that waiting tables isn't for them and went into property acquisition. They just don't bother to ask the owners if they want to sell it first. This time they screwed up and stole a necklace and a statue of Bast from someone that had a friend who could recognize transgenic handiwork." The oxygen level in the room dropped with the collective intake of breath. The twins slid back in their seats a little more, not daring to look at either parent. No telepathy was needed. They were so dead.  
  
Liz looked up at her mother and went to say something, anything, but Alicia cut her off dead. "Elizabeth Erin, you do not want to say a word to me," she snarled, looking at her two youngest offspring. "What the hell got into you two? Stealing?"  
  
"Like you've got room to talk!" Cameron blurted. "You were snatching stuff since you were what, ten!" Both Heather and Daniel took a step back from the look their mother shot her youngest son. Neither of them had ever gotten that look aimed at them before, and quite frankly, they were about to start begging for forgiveness just on general principles.  
  
"This," Alicia said coldly, "is not about me. If this were about the things that I have done, then this conversation would not be happening because I was smart enough to never get caught. I would have thought that after your teen years, you would know that it's not what you do, but what you get caught doing that counts." Zack caught her arm before she could physically go after them, but that small bit of mercy did nothing to relieve them. Mom could be counted on for an explosion of temper. Dad had a cold glare that made words from him unnecessary. They could see their future being locked into a small closet in that icy glare. Jumper cables may have been involved as well, but that part was still hazy due to abject fear.  
  
Daniel glanced over at Heather. "This is why you wanted to know where they were working, huh?"  
  
Heather nodded, and then looked back at the twins, feeling oh so pleased with her detective work. "I wasn't about to let them have any way of getting out of this. I know you haven't been working where you claimed you were. And Janna isn't enrolled in any kind of classes in a ten-mile radius of where you live. Jon checked on that today. None of you have been using parental money or have a job."  
  
"Let me guess," Logan said dryly. "Janna is the one that's been doing all of the hacking work for you two." The twins didn't answer. Their gaze dropped to the carpet.  
  
"I checked some stuff on the side with a friend," Heather said. "According to him, when he looked at the hacking techniques, he would have sworn that it was Eye's Only doing the hacks. Since I know Jhondie has been in New York, how many other people would be able to do that?"  
  
Max blew out a breath. "And you wondered why I wanted her off of that computer every now and then."  
  
Logan's eyebrow rose as he stared at his wife. "Breaking into places and stealing statues of Bast? I don't think she got that from my side of the family."  
  
Max rolled her eyes. "So what are you fencing the haul for anyways?" she asked Liz and Cam, ignoring her husband's kick in the ankle. She didn't care. If her daughter was risking her life for low hauls then she was going to be pissed. Better be for at least a good twenty grand.  
  
"Depends on the time and trouble involved," Liz admitted. "Usually around three or four."  
  
"Grand?" Max asked disapprovingly.  
  
Cameron looked up at her, mortally offended. "Hundred thousand dollars. And you can add at least another hundred to it if you want it out of the country. We don't play with the small timers. Gets split three ways evenly." The edges of Max's mouth twitched upwards, but she was able to fight the smile. Her baby was doing quite well on her own.  
  
Liz glared at her sister. "We wouldn't have gotten caught if you hadn't ratted on us. I thought family was supposed to stick together."  
  
"Be glad that Jon decided to give me the tape rather than let the Italian police come after you three," Heather snapped back. "Or even better, let the nice rich Italian family with Mafia connections know who stole from them. I wonder what the Conte would do to the person that stole a necklace that's been in the family for a few hundred years?"  
  
"At least it would be from someone that knows not to snitch on their own family!" Liz shouted back.  
  
"And we had lots of good stuff on you that Mom and Dad didn't know about," Cameron piped up, defending his twin. "Remember when we caught you and Jon getting busy in the back of Dad's car? I guess we'll just bring it all out since you don't think family should keep secrets for each other now."  
  
It was the sheer luck of Daniel being within arms distance from Heather that kept her from going after her little brother right then and there. At least it slowed her down for a second and then Daniel felt his hand yanked off of her arm and the rest of him shoved backwards. The slight delay gave Jon the second he needed to be able to get to her, and grab on. Every hair on his arm stood up for a second with that odd feeling of her kinetic ability, and then it vanished before she actually used it on him.  
  
"Heather!" Cyra's voice cut through the air sharply. "If you feel the need to kill your brother or sister, then kindly do it outside where my daughter cannot witness it." Heather looked up over at her and backed down at Tanya's dark eyes, wide with shock and fear.  
  
"You know, we never hurt anyone," Cameron added with emphasis towards his sister's attack. "We were very careful when we planned so that nobody at the sites would get injured. The only time someone was ever hurt was when that guy grabbed Liz and she had to get away."  
  
"And he was shooting at me," Liz said. "I would have just outrun him until he brought the gun came out, so that made me kick his ass all over the place until he let me go." She gave a little shrug. "Three seconds and he was on the floor and I was out the door." Most people wouldn't have been able to tell, but she knew that her Mom had to fight back a smile on that. She liked knowing that her kids could protect themselves with style and polish.  
  
Jon blinked. "Then why did you sabotage the plane? You knew that would leave more people there, including the bodyguard you nearly put into the hospital." That was a sticky point that he and Heather had debated for a while on the trip back to Switzerland and then to the US. Why take such a crazy chance. The stupefied looks on their faces only added to the mystery.  
  
"Huh?" Cameron couldn't figure out what Jon was talking about. Liz knew a lot about sports cars, but nothing about planes. Hell, neither of them could fly one much less know what to do to sabotage an engine. Breaking it would be easy enough with a big enough hammer, but to sabotage required finesse. "We never touched a plane." The twins shared a quick glance of confusion. There were too many people there. The daughter in the hallway. The bodyguard.  
  
"Well someone intentionally damaged the family's private plane," Heather clarified, anger still evident in her voice. Neither of them replied. They would have to talk about it later when it was just the two of them. Both remembered how odd Southwood had been over the whole affair. As much as Janna was going to get it when she got home, they needed to talk to her as well and find out if there had been any other contact from him. This just did not feel right at all.  
  
Cameron looked up at his father. "Dad." he tried to say. There was an explanation for their behavior. Maybe not a good one, but it was there. The first time was just a lark. And then.well, it was addicting to have these incredible abilities and be able to use them so well. It was like they were honing them from a sledgehammer into a weighted and precise throwing knife. This wasn't something that was going to be forever. It just worked for them for now.  
  
"Go upstairs." The interruption wasn't yelled, but held a force of command. Dad didn't yell. He didn't have to. The gruffness in his voice added the thought of duct tape to the vision of their future in the closet.  
  
The twins got to their feet and plodded to the door. They appeared humbled and defeated. Nobody knew that they had just had a conversation that made them agree that such was the best image to leave with. Plans for getting back at Heather would wait until she wasn't expecting it. For now, they were going to have to deal with the parents without an audience. Taking off and turning themselves into the police might be a better idea though, although they weren't sure if the meanest Italian prison could keep them safe from their mother. They had heard things in the past. They thought they were good? She had gotten in and out of worse places.  
  
"How long have you known?" Alicia asked her eldest daughter as soon as the twins were heard trundling upstairs. She thought about yelling after them to not even think about taking off, but the point seemed moot. They knew that there was no place on the face of the planet that they could run to where she couldn't find them. Running would merely delay the inevitable ass kicking that was to come later.  
  
"Jon called me a couple of days ago with the tape," Heather replied, feeling much calmer with them out of the room. She felt bad for shoving Daniel back like that, but he knew better. She wasn't always in control of the telekinesis when the twins riled her up. It was strange that she didn't shove Jon though. Mom might not have noticed that, but from the looks Dad was giving out, he had. "I flew over there to make sure it was really them before I made an accusation."  
  
Alicia's eyes fell on Jon. He was managing to subtly keep Heather between him a Zack. Smart boy. As soon as those icy blue eyes hit him, he volunteered what he knew immediately. "I called Heather as soon as I saw the tape. Signora di LiCossa was planning on calling the Carl Pilchard agency, but I told her that I knew someone that would be able to help. Her son was dead set against outside investigators, and I promised her that my friend would be able to help quietly as a favor to me and not tell her son. Apparently he's trying to investigate on his own Heather flew out and you know the rest."  
  
"What are the chances of him finding out anything?" Logan asked quickly, thinking of Janna alone and unprotected in Europe. The twins had the genetic revving to be able to defend themselves, but Janna was almost ordinary. Zane had shown her a few things, true, but his only child could easily find herself in a dangerous situation with no help from any quarter.  
  
Heather smiled reassuringly at her uncle. "Police departments from a lot of countries have been looking for this trio for a while now," she said. "He's a single untrained guy poking around, trying to be all manly about it. The only reason I figured them out is because I knew what kind of person can do what they were doing. If professionals haven't even come close, then she's probably safe until she gets home and you two can have a talk with her."  
  
"Maybe we should call her and tell her to come home early," Max mused.  
  
Logan patted her hand. "No," he said, "The only way to trap a vixen is to have her come to you." The slight smile dancing on his lips reminded her of how he had gotten her to come back to his penthouse during those first few crazy days. "Besides," Logan teased lightly, "she's her mother's daughter more than we thought. Even if he did find her, chances are he's just going to fall in love with her instead."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Hi! So, still hanging on after all these chapters huh? Glad to see you are all still there. Anyways, even though FF.net will no longer allow MiSTing on the site, it doesn't mean that I am not going to continue to do it. So, for anyone who read the first two MiSTs and enjoyed them, head on over to http://forums.delphiforums.com/jacissml/messages?msg=162.1 and check out my latest creation. For those of you scratching your head (if it's someplace else, then I don't want to know, okay!) and wondering what the hell I am talking about, go to http://forums.delphiforums.com/jacissml/messages?msg=156.1 and start from the beginning. I think you'll find them pretty humorous and yes, what seems to be spoilers in there are very much accurate to what is going to happen in the stories. Until the next chapter, Ta! - Cat 


	24. Playing Through

It was luck and increasing winds that kept the first golf club from hitting Antonio directly in the head. Most people would agree that a savagely angry woman screaming obscenities in French would have horrible aim in strong wind gusts, but she seemed to be compensating for it quite well. And for an American, she had an amazing grasp on the vocabulary of a French sailor.  
  
"Son of a bitch!" she screamed at him, heaving the second club in his direction. It thumped into his chest, knocking him backwards as a rain of golf balls began flying at him. "You bastard! Send your goons after me." Her words were punctuated with a flying nine iron that Antonio had to drop to the rain soaked ground to avoid being hit with. She was still screaming and crying and had a whole bag of ammunition left to go.  
  
Well, she wasn't hurt obviously. However, the chances of him getting hurt were increasing rapidly. So much for trying to save the damsel in distress. For a moment he wondered what had happened at Jaqui's and if Marco was still alive. He dodged the box of tees that threatened to spear him in multiple places and took a few steps towards her while she yanked out a few more clubs.  
  
"Jaqui," he called to her, hoping she would show some rational behavior, "that is not what happened." Her reply was unintelligible, but the two putters that screamed past him explained that she really didn't care about what his version of the story was and that she would prefer that he left. He was going to have to do this the hard way. He ignored her shriek about removing his manhood and shoving it down his throat and ran at her, praying that her bag was coming up on empty. If he missed and she was at close range with ammo left, he was a dead man.  
  
Janna had one club left in her bag and she was going to have to make it count. She whipped it out of the bag as Antonio ran towards her, hefting it like a baseball bat and taking a strong swing at him. Had she ever played baseball before, she might have landed the blow and knocked him clean out. She had a second to wish that she hadn't had a male gym teacher when she was supposed to be learning the game in high school. She had explained in graphic detail why female problems prevented her from playing, and he had turned various shades of red and purple before excusing her just to shut her up. She had been trying to figure out what she was going to say to Ms. Miller to get out of it the next year, but Heather's little escapade and Cole took care of that problem.  
  
Antonio saw it coming and skidded to a stop, feeling the end of the club slide an inch in front of his nose. He jumped forward before she could bring it back, grabbing her arms. His mouth opened to say something, anything, but then he looked at her. The wind was whipping her hair across her face. The way she was standing. The stick. A glimpse of dark hair across a face.  
  
Recognition set in.  
  
Janna knew. His eyes suddenly went wide and he froze, and she knew that he knew. The screams and profanities she had set to throw at him died in her throat. She wanted to run, but where was there to go? And he wasn't exactly letting go of her either. For a long moment, she could only stand there in the rain, their eyes locked as all of the details came together in Antonio's mind. Who she was. Who she lived with.  
  
"Your clients," he muttered, barely audible over the rain. "There are no clients. Just you and your cousins. And you hit me." He seemed amused at that. He had thought when they first met that he knew her from somewhere. He just wasn't expecting her to be the girl that had knocked him out cold and then apologized for it.  
  
"I don't know what you are talking about," she said quickly. "But I applaud anyone that hit you, you."  
  
"I saw you Jaqui," he interrupted. "I thought I knew you when I met you at the hotel. That is where it was from. I heard you scream at the squirrel and went to see who or what it was. And then you hit me."  
  
"It.it was a special case so I had to be there," she stuttered out, trying to make up something that sounded plausible. It wasn't working to her ears, and that edge of a smile forming on his mouth said that he wasn't buying it either.  
  
He shook his head. "No. They went in to get the necklace and you were there getting into the security. That was why there was a moment where the system almost regained control. You got out of the car." One hand let go of her arm, unconsciously touching the bruise on his forehead.  
  
Janna took advantage of the distraction and jerked back, her rain-soaked wrist sliding out from his grasp. She took off running like a shot, heading down the incline towards the rough. It was a pretty good-sized areas with dense trees that she might be able to duck around in and lose him for long enough for her to jump a fence and get to her car. Car. Airport. First flight to anywhere. Call her partners in crime. Freak out for a bit, and then get her butt to America where she was an untouchable rich princess.  
  
She might have made it had she not been wearing some stupid trendy shoes that were just too cute and they were on sale too when she bought them. They could be casual, dressy, and were always comfortable. It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime perfect pair. The salesgirl said they would have men running after her. She didn't say anything about the fact they would be her downfall if she were also running.in the opposite direction.  
  
One of the shoes slipped a bit, making her stumble, and Antonio's hand clamped around her upper arm. He tried to slow down and spin her around at the same time, but the slick grass was being as cooperative as Janna's shoes were. He skidded, sliding to the ground and pulling Janna down with him, their momentum sliding them both across the grass.  
  
Antonio trying to hit her or yell or something was expected. Sliding across the grass in between the golf cart and the rough and ending up with Antonio flat on top of her was what Janna was not expecting. Maybe it was by design, or maybe it was accident, but they came to a stop and he had her wrists pinned over her head and the weight of his body holding her down. It didn't keep her from trying to get out from under him, kicking and squirming wildly.  
  
"Get off of me!" she screamed. Her voice lowered to a hiss. "Your goon couldn't scare me, you think this will? You think I'll turn my family over to you? Like hell I."  
  
His mouth pressed over hers almost violently. Janna wanted to bite his lip or pull away, but it seemed like her body had decided that it was sick of taking orders from her mind and not having any fun. The rain was pouring all around them and there she was, responding to his kiss as if there was nothing wrong with that moment at all.  
  
Antonio broke off the kiss, barely able to breathe. He wanted her. Plain and simple. Not as a control tactic to find out things, but she was.she was.incomprehensibly so. "I told him to stay away from you," he managed to get out. "I swear I did not send him. I went to your home to find you and stop him."  
  
"No," she spit back at him. "All you want is that damned necklace. I don't know where it is! I told you that. Sending hired muscle to rip out my nails isn't going to get more information out of me. Pretending to care about me now isn't going to help either. There's nothing more to tell! Now get off of me and out of my life forever. You've done nothing but play a game with me since the start." She had to stop talking to bite back a sob. It had been nothing but a game to him. And she had landed right in the middle and stayed there.  
  
"You wanted me to stay last night," he fired back intently. "If I was playing a game, then I would have. I didn't because." he wasn't sure how to finish that line.  
  
"You expect me to believe that you were worried about me?" she asked bitterly. "That you.you."  
  
"Were running all over the town, desperate to find you and praying you weren't hurt?" he snapped at her. "I was not thinking about the necklace. When I saw he was not there, it was the first time since it was stolen that the necklace wasn't the top priority in my mind. You were." The anger in her eyes died at the intense sincerity of his words. "So yes, I cared," he added, angry with himself in a way for saying it to her. She wouldn't care. She had already made up her mind on what he had done and judged him accordingly.  
  
"Let me go," she whispered.  
  
Antonio's fingers opened, releasing her wrists. It was time to just get up and walk away. She didn't say anything. Her hands clamped on the lapels of his coat and yanked him back down to her, kissing him with complete abandon. Unexpected, but he wasn't about to complain as their arms and legs twisted around each other's. The rain and the cold were forgotten in the moment and the heat that they were generating between them.  
  
Janna believed him. How this happened, she had no idea. A few months ago, she didn't know his name. A few weeks ago, and she only knew that he was the owner of something that she wanted. Now all of a sudden he was real and flesh and blood and if he even thought about stopping, she was going to break him into little pieces and only keep the good ones. Her heavy sweater slid over her head almost by magic, his body instantly covering hers again to keep her warm. Oh God. Warm was not the word for the way he was keeping her.  
  
Her blouse was actually kept together in the front by a ribbon rather than buttons. It was cute and provincial, and the "in" look for last spring. It was now out of fashion, but it still looked good with the shoes. Of course if the people that decided what was fashionable had a man like Antonio catch the edge of the ribbon with his teeth because his hands were otherwise deliciously occupied and pull on it, causing it to loosen, then they might rethink what was stylish.  
  
Beautiful, Antonio thought. Every part of her was simply exquisite. From the long legs being revealed as her skirt got hiked up in the fall to the absolutely lovely breasts being exposed to his gaze, he wondered if he had seen a woman so perfectly put together before. This was crazy and he knew they should stop, but there was no way he could keep himself from touching her more, his mouth dragging away from her lips and down her neck, tasting the skin. She was a thief. Thieves were connivers and liars by nature, but that thought seemed totally unimportant at the moment. Conscience was slammed away for later use. He had more important things on his mind and tongue at the moment.  
  
A soft cry escaped Janna as his head dipped down, and she felt his mouth on her breasts, tasting and teasing her. The contrast of the cold rain and the heat from his lips were doing some rather amazing things to her. Her breathing was already becoming ragged, and she knew that the time to turn back had whipped past them without any notice at all. She wanted him. In the rain for the entire world to see, she didn't care. So what if she barely knew him. She knew enough. Why should it bother her that he didn't even know her name? It shouldn't.it didn't matter. Names weren't important. Feeling his excitement against her, what he was doing.that was important. Nothing else should matter.but it did to her. She wanted him to make love to her, not Jaqui.  
  
"Janna," she murmured. Antonio froze for a moment, looking into her eyes in shock. Janna's eyes were wide as she realized what she had said and how she said it. No fake accent. Just her. He wasn't saying anything. Not good. "My name is Janna," she muttered, looking away as she was feeling horribly embarrassed. "Thought you would want to know."  
  
Antonio caught her chin and brought her face back to him. The smile that touched the edges of his mouth, brightening his eyes, made her want to melt into a puddle. "Janna," he said softly, the name sounding like a prayer. "It suits you better." He kissed her again, letting her know in the contact how much he appreciated the trust she had just shown to him by giving him her name of her own volition. It would have been easy to find out now, but the fact she volunteered it said so much more.  
  
This wasn't just to get information out of her, Janna thought triumphantly as Antonio's hand slid up her leg and under her skirt to her rear. She was still wearing leather gloves, but despite them managed to start getting his shirt unbuttoned in admirably short amount of time. Oh God, he was just as gorgeous without clothes as he was with them on. She yanked her gloves off and then ran them through the dark hair on his chest around to the corded muscles of his back. How was it possible that a man could be so hard and soft at the same time? She didn't care. She just wanted to keep touching him forever.  
  
Antonio didn't resist when Janna pushed him lightly, rolling with him so that she was straddling him. Her skirt was bunched to her waist, but she was long past caring as she leaned over him, the hair on his chest further stimulating her where it brushed her bare skin. Her lips ranged over his neck and shoulder. Antonio was already shivering in the rain but the chances of him trying to stop her were roughly that of him running a two- minute mile. It was just one of those things he didn't even want to attempt.  
  
He had to help her for a second when she fumbled with his belt and the button on his pants. Some tiny rational part of her mind was pointing out the situation and how crazy it was, but she didn't care anymore. The situation was crazy, but for them it was perfect as well. Her fingers grabbed the edge of his pockets to pull down and his hands came over hers immediately, keeping her from moving. She looked up at him in alarm. Oh, he was so not going to stop now.  
  
"You're not trying to look for loose change are you?" he asked with a teasing grin.  
  
Her little gasp of outrage only increased his amusement. Her eyes narrowed. "I was hoping to find something else to amuse me, but it seems the coins are, ahem, larger denominations."  
  
Antonio laughed, and then pulled her back to him in a kiss, moving so that they were side by side so that he could touch her easier. He finally yanked off his overcoat and let it fall over them both. It was actually waterproofed, and it made a somewhat nice bit of protection from the rain. Humor was forgotten as the passion built again, both of them exploring each other's bodies. Janna felt him catch the edge of her panties and peel them down her legs. She was shaking, but it wasn't from the cold now. A single finger began teasing at the very core of her, rubbing gently but insistently. She moaned against his mouth, her hips unconsciously pressing upwards towards the sweet pleasures he was providing.  
  
Janna wasn't sure exactly when or how Antonio got out of his pants, or even if he did get them all the way off at all, but then she could feel his hardness pressing against her thigh. Their eyes met, the question lingering there without words. Janna bit her lip slightly. All this and he was still showing such consideration for her and what she wanted. Not a big dilemma. She wanted him more than anything she had ever imagined before.  
  
"Oh, yes," she whispered, immediately feeling him moving between her legs, pressing forward. Their eyes locked as he entered her, passion mirroring passion as her legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him locked as closely to her as he could be. Slow and sweet could wait for another time. All of the desire that had been there between them since they first met exploded in a fury of sensations. Janna's fingers dug into his back as the absolute pleasure built unchecked, kissing any part of his skin her mouth could come into contact with. Low animal moans could be heard but neither of them was sure who exactly was making what noise.  
  
"Oh God Janna," Antonio moaned into her throat, his words trailing off into an erotic stream of Italian that she couldn't understand, but knew the sentiment instinctively. She would have said something back in the like, but she was biting her lip to keep from screaming her pleasure as their lovemaking seemed to go on and on forever.  
  
The tempo began to speed up faster, both of them encouraging the other for more until holding back was impossible. Janna couldn't contain the cry that was wrenched from her as her climax hit, her entire body contracting violently. Antonio had always prided himself on being in control of his body, but the feeling of her coming was more than he could handle. For a moment he saw stars as the pleasure peaked for him as well, and then he nearly collapsed on her, completely unable to move a muscle more. Gasping for air was the limit at that moment.  
  
Janna couldn't let go of him even if she wanted to. Their limbs were suddenly so intertwined that only the dark hair on him could distinguish what belonged to whom. Now they could finally start feeling the cold and the rain that was still falling all around them. Their eyes met, still glazed with the intensity of just moments before.  
  
"Janna," he whispered. Her finger immediately touched his lips.  
  
"Talk later, okay?" she said. Talk was bad right now. Touch was good. Talk was bad.  
  
Antonio smiled. "Talk later," he agreed.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Janna wasn't sure if she every muscle in her body was aching or if she just felt flat out wonderful as they sat in the golf cart. Sure, she had just made some major complications in her life and probably was going to get the crap kicked out of her by her cousins, but who was she to complain. The rain was slacking off and they made sure their clothes were straightened out enough to be considered decent. She sighed contentedly as she snuggled in his lap, listening to his heart beating. She supposed they would need to go first before he got sick.  
  
Antonio wasn't sure if there was anything that he could say to Janna right then. She wasn't the ringleader of the thieves; she was one of them. Brilliantly done. As far as he knew, he was the only one that had seen past the ruse. She had volunteered her name to him. He had seen the fear then at what she was saying, but she had done it anyways. There was still a great deal that they were going to have to work out. But that could wait until tomorrow. What he wanted to do then was to take her somewhere, have a hot shower and then make love to her again somewhere a bit more comfortable than a golf course.  
  
Of course it was warmer now. The golf carts used by the club were the newest and the best available. It was designed so that the dedicated could sit in there in comfort during bad weather and wait for it to clear up enough to get back to their game. Of course most people would rather go back to the clubhouse and have a few drinks, but it was the point that the newest and the best was there for their enjoyment. Plastic coverings would come down over the sides of the cart at the touch of a button to keep out rain and there was a heater and an air conditioner in there. Being too hot or cold was simply intolerable to the rich, and the club owners knew that better than anyone. Whatever the reason, Antonio was glad to have it now as the air in the cart warmed up around them.  
  
Janna looked up at him, and touched his face lightly to get his attention. "I honestly don't know where it is," she said, grateful that she didn't have to keep up with the French accent. "When I go home, I'm going to talk with my cousins and I know they'll help me get it once we find what Southwood did with it." She bit her lip slightly. "I'm not going to do this anymore. I don't know if that's a consolation to you or not that your loss stopped the meanest group of contract thieves around."  
  
His dark eyes met hers. "While you are gone I can use my own resources to find out who this Southwood really is and where the necklace is. And I cannot say that I wish it never happened. I wouldn't have met you if it had not." He punctuated his words with a long soft kiss. "But I do believe that I should go home with you and be there when you release Marco."  
  
Janna smiled, still feeling weak-kneed from his kiss. "Sounds good to me. I don't think I'll have the element of surprise twice and I don't think he's going to be happy with me."  
  
Antonio looked at her for a long moment. "Your cousin.it was a woman that managed to get him, wasn't it? How? And how did she jump from the window?"  
  
Janna knew there was one truth that she simply couldn't tell him. Not ever. Well, maybe if they were together for a long time, but this wasn't the exact forum to explain genetic engineering projects. "My aunt and uncle are ex-military," she said softly, not really lying. "Covert operations. My aunt could probably break Marco into little pieces and not mess up her hair. Anyways, they taught their kids self-defense, and I learned from my cousins. As far as the window, there were ropes and slide wires. If you didn't see them, it's just a testament to how good we are."  
  
"I would still like to see how she did it."  
  
Janna smiled. "A girl's got to keep some secrets. If she doesn't, then she'll be boring."  
  
Antonio laughed. "I have a feeling you are anything but boring."  
  
Janna sat up. "You'll have to decide that for yourself. So, how about you follow me home and send Marco off and then we figure out what to do until my flight tonight."  
  
Antonio released her after another kiss. It took a minute to gather up her clubs from where they had been flung about, and then he drove her back to the clubhouse. The club manager noticed that Miss Cale was practically glowing despite being soaking wet, but thought better than to comment on it. She had always been a die-hard romantic at heart and seeing this helped to confirm her suspicions that the world didn't always suck.  
  
They left in their separate cars. Janna thought about just letting him drive her home, but she needed to have everything locked up before she left. She laughed when Antonio fell behind after a minute, not expecting her to drive like she was doing some street racing. And that was just regular driving. When she was mad or excited, then she really pushed the limits. That was why her mother took away the motorcycle she had received for her sixteenth birthday. She and her mom liked to race. Max always won. The first time Janna won a race with her mother on the bike by cutting through a school, not the yard, but whipping through the main hallway, and then going up the wrong way of a freeway exit ramp had been the last time she had ridden the motorcycle. At least Aunt Cindy had thought it was funny. Janna just said that her mom was pissed that she lost the race.  
  
Antonio thought he was going to catch up when the arms for a railroad crossing started coming down, but the little minx whipped around them like there wasn't a high-speed train about to come through there and smash her flat. He grinned. She was certainly not the usual woman that he had been with before. Lovely ladies of his own class and breeding were the type that normally adorned his arm. They ornamented him and knew the proper and polite things to say and when to say them. They would make excellent hostesses and breed up a few children to ensure that his line would go on. Janna Cale was not an ornament. He thought of the bruise on his forehead. That would be a reminder of what would happen if he tried to treat her as such.  
  
Janna was glad to get a little ahead of Antonio. She wanted to have a minute to get in the house and maybe grab a bottle of wine or something. Dad had taught her about wines and made sure that she knew a good vintage when she saw it. Antonio would send Marco away with a swift kick to the rear, and then.well.she had to face facts, and the facts were they would probably be in the nearest bed in a matter of minutes.  
  
She was still half in a daze when she walked into the dark living room, thinking about what had just happened and how her life had changed forever because of it. She would worry about if he were going to keep his promises to her when she got back. Right now she wanted to be thinking about the way he kissed her and touched and held her and how he.  
  
A strong arm came around Janna's throat from behind, pressing something against her face. Janna gasped in shock, only having a second to regret that instinctive reaction as bitter smelling and tasting fumes filled her nose and mouth, and then everything went black. 


	25. Revelations

Seven continents. Thousands of islands. Hundreds of countries. The twins debated their options and came to the same conclusion each time: there was no place on the face of the planet that they could run to where their parents couldn't find them. The deepest jungles in Africa? Liz knew Mom had been there. More than once. Even if they couldn't find them by some miracle, was there a way to hide from the rest of the family? Not likely. They knew that Heather wasn't going to arrest them or anything. And she couldn't either since they hadn't done a thing in the United States. Still.it might have been better than sitting in a room waiting for their parents to come up there and talk to them.  
  
Maybe the parents would understand once they were away from everyone else and they could explain more what and why they had been doing it all. It wasn't anything different from things they had done when they were their age. Well, less killing, but that was a good thing right? And Mom was more pissed about being caught then actually doing something bad. Dad would be all over them about doing stupid stuff to expose themselves and getting into trouble, but the only person to know what was going on only knew because Heather had been the one to blab about what they were and all the other stuff.  
  
They were going to be okay, right? Parents didn't kill their young, right? No telepathy was needed to come to the mental consensus. They were totally screwed.  
  
Liz's cell phone chirruped. The strange number that came up almost made her not answer it, but she hit the talk button anyways. Maybe it would be a telemarketer of some sort that she could let loose on. "What?" she snapped.  
  
"Good morning my clients," Janna said cheerfully in her Jaqui voice. Liz rolled her eyes. She was not in the mood for this playfulness now.  
  
"We've got a problem," Liz said quickly, letting the conversation "backfire" to Cameron so that he could "hear" it as well. "We got home and."  
  
"I have a gun to my head," she interrupted just as brightly as when Liz answered the phone. Liz was about to make a sharp retort over being interrupted when Janna's words registered. Her jaw landed somewhere on the floor then snapped shut. The twins exchanged a glance, their shock mirrored in each other's eyes. Okay, so it was possible to start having a worse day. Murphy was, as always, still in effect.  
  
"Who.what." Liz sputtered, any ability to speak deserting her.  
  
(find out if she's hurt!)  
  
"Are you okay?" Liz asked quickly, her brother's sensible suggestion echoing in her head.  
  
"Quite well," came the reply. She could have been describing the weather for all of the worry in her voice. It was a great act, but neither of them was fooled. They knew her far too well. The calmer and more cheerful she was in a bad situation, the more afraid she was. She was freaking terrified at the moment, but the game face was on and nobody was going to break it.  
  
"However," Janna continued jauntily, " we do have a bit of a problem. I do hope that you are not terribly attached to that statue that you took during the last contract. It would seem that Monsieur Southwood was quite attached to it and would like it back. Would you be so kind as to come back for a bit and give it to Franz and Anna? I shall let Monsieur Southwood know that they will be more than happy to deliver it to anywhere in the world he would like it to be sent."  
  
"Where are you?" Liz asked desperately. She didn't care if they had to give the statue or even the fees back to Southwood, but he didn't exactly seem like the kind of guy you could trust even if he did get it back. If they could get to Janna.  
  
There was the sound of a slight scuffle and a squeak of outrage from Jaqui. "In twelve hours the other two are going to be called with delivery instructions," a harsh voice said in a lousy copy of a British accent. "If they have nothing to deliver, she is going to curse your names before she dies." The line went dead.  
  
Liz hit the "end" button on the phone, looking up at her brother. "Tell the family?"  
  
Cameron thought about it for a second. "After we get back," he answered, grabbing his backpack that still had the statue in it. "Right now."  
  
"No time to explain," Liz agreed, opening the window. She blew out a breath. "Two weeks," she muttered. "What's going to happen in two weeks? Next time she says that, I'll kill her myself." She swung her legs over the edge, dropping lightly to the ground as Cameron followed her down.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Don't lose it, Janna thought as she hung up the phone. As long as they don't know that you're scared, they can't use it against you. Oh, but she was. Janna was at least. Janna was huddled in a corner absolutely terrified as to what they were going to do to her, and more importantly, had they done anything to Antonio? He hadn't been far behind her. Had they taken her away before he got there or was he.no.she wasn't going to think that way until she knew for sure. But how was she supposed to ask them without it giving them ammunition against her. Luckily, they had no clue as to her internal struggles.  
  
Jaqui gave Southwood and his various thugs a rather charming smile when he slammed down the phone. It made them nervous that she was so calm when she should be intimidated. "There, gentlemen," she said brightly. "My clients will be on the next flight from where they are and give the statute to some mutual associates who will be more than happy to deliver it to any place that you name." She wasn't about to tell them that Franz and Anna were the names that Liz and Cam used when they were her German bodyguards. Whatever happened, it was best that these guys never know they had their hands on the actual clients.  
  
"This is too easy," Bentley growled to his boss. "We didn't have to do anything to get it from her where the statue was. They're not going to just give it up."  
  
"And why not?" Jaqui questioned. "The statue was a whim, a lark if you will. It has no value to us and does to you. They've no reason to keep it." Especially considering the fact that they she was the one that wanted it in the first place. Next time.actually, this made it official. There was no next time. She was so retired.  
  
"Besides," she continued, as relaxed as if they were sipping tea in a public bistro somewhere, "what is the point of me trying to refuse to tell you where the statue is? You seem disappointed that you didn't have to torture it out of me. As I said before, the statue is of no discernable value to me. I see no percentage in going through pain for something that is meaningless. You want the statue. I want my freedom. It is a fair enough trade to me."  
  
"You better hope they come through for you," Southwood said menacingly. Her smile didn't waver in the slightest.  
  
"I have every bit of faith in my clients. As you must know, they never fail in what they set out to do. And delivering a statue is a rather simple task, wouldn't you think?"  
  
Southwood didn't reply to that jab. He grunted at one of his minions who stepped forward immediately. "Put her in with the other one," he snapped and then stormed out of the room.  
  
Minion was probably supposed to scare her into submission. He was tall and dark with a wicked scar twisting the left side of his mouth and turning down his eye. He leered at her, letting her know without saying the words what he wanted to do to her, and would do if the boss would allow him. She didn't flinch when he grabbed her arm. He might look tough, but obviously he had been on the losing end of a fight before. And he was walking with a slight stiffness on the left side. Uncle Zane had taught her to notice stuff like that. That meant he probably had a bad knee or had torn an Achilles tendon at some point. In other words, he had a weak point that could be used if needed.  
  
But now was not the time for resisting. Reinforcements had been called in and with a little luck, the twins would get here and make the trade in less than twenty-four hours and then they would all be scampering back to New York. Janna would call Antonio and let him know that she was fine and that all was well. She had promised to try and get the necklace back, but at this point, staying way below the radar seemed like the best idea. He would understand. Then again, he probably had connections of dubious reputation of his own. The irony of the situation was almost too much. She might have to depend on her victim for protection from the person that hired them.  
  
Minion took Janna down a short hallway and then turned a corner. They went down a second corridor and stopped in front of a locked door. Janna had absolutely no idea where she was or if in that room she could have a few moments alone to collapse in a corner and hyperventilate. She had no idea how much time had passed between her getting home and then waking up on a bare concrete floor. When she had woken up, her head felt like she had gone through an entire bottle of Jack on her own and her back felt like, well, like she had been sleeping on a concrete floor. She was also tied up which didn't make the situation any better.  
  
She didn't think much time had passed since waking up and making that phone call. She had been hauled to her feet and dragged from whatever room she was in into the central room and there was good old Southwood, chewing on the end of a cigar and glaring at her. Janna wanted to scream, but luckily Jaqui was there to take the reins and figure out what to do next. It had come down to that statue. Janna started to get a sick feeling like the necklace was just a ploy and everything had revolved around the statue from the beginning. Were they supposed to have gotten caught? In the middle of everything, the statue was to have disappeared and they would have been to blame for everything? This was so not good.  
  
But Jaqui had prevailed. She had gotten Southwood to let her call her clients and, thank God, Liz answered her cell phone. Now it was just going to be a matter of waiting for twelve hours while Liz and Cam got back to Europe and make the trade. Twelve hours. She could do that. Sure. No problem.  
  
Minion unlocked a door and shoved her through it, locking the door behind her. Before she could even look around, a rich Irish brogue seemed to fill the room. "Oh, now what is this now? Are they thinking that they can send in a woman now and I'll feel all this companionship? That I'll want to do it for them? Ha! I'll lead you straight to Hell I will!"  
  
The room wasn't large, but it took Janna a second to locate the girl tucked down in the corner, sitting on the floor. She couldn't have been more Irish if she was wearing green and had a fifth of whisky in one hand. Dark red hair cascaded around her shoulders and her bright green eyes were snapping emerald fire at Janna as she sat there, casually dangling a bright red shoe off of her big toe. The girl saw Janna's gaze fall on her and her chin went up a little further, daring her to do her worst.  
  
"I believe I am going straight to Hell without a guide quite well on my own," Jaqui replied, choosing to sit down on the small cot that was the only furniture in the room. "And with a bit of luck we will not be together long enough for companionship to occur so I believe you are safe on that count."  
  
The girl eyed her with less anger and a glint of amusement. "Are you the 'bloody frog' that took their statue from them?" she asked.  
  
Jaqui blinked. "Southwood actually called me that? I would think he could have one of his minions come up with a better insult than that." She thought for a second. Be careful, she warned herself. This could be another trick. "Of course he was not happy to learn that I don't have the statue at all. I just knew who could get it."  
  
The girl laughed. "You certainly got that blighter's knickers in a twist over that. I think if he didn't need me so much he would have killed me when I laughed so much I was crying over hearing that. Told him that it was justice, I did. He stole me and then the last piece he needed was stolen from him. I was hoping that you wouldn't get caught too." She shrugged. "Good run though. Amused the hell out of me every time he cursed you."  
  
"I am Jaqui," she finally introduced herself, holding out a hand.  
  
The girl took it in a quick shake. "Emilie McCormick," she announced.  
  
Janna blinked. She knew that name. Oxford. That's from where. She had been in England at an art seminar and Emilie McCormick had been giving a lecture there about dead languages. She looked at Emilie more closely and realized that it was the same girl. Janna had been between lectures and had dropped in on this one for a while. Mostly because it was hot and she had a blister on her toe rather than wanting to hear the lecture, but it had been actually slightly interesting. She couldn't follow much of what Emilie was saying, but Emilie's bio on the back of the lecture agenda was pretty cool.  
  
She was a child prodigy in languages. By the age of ten, she could speak, read and write fluently in English, French, Spanish, Italian, German, Arabic and Mandarin Chinese. Then she had started on dead languages. At 23, she was one of the few people in the world that could speak or read in medieval languages. Her lecture that day was on how languages change over time and how the changes make the language into practically an entirely new one over a few centuries or so. Janna had left before it was over but she had been doing a decent job of making an utterly boring subject into a lecture that didn't make her want to gouge her eyes out to get out of listening to it. Janna couldn't say that about some of the lectures she had just been to in her own field of interest.  
  
So what was she doing here anyways? What was so important about the statue and why was a linguist needed? She also wondered if it would be possible to ask Southwood for the necklace back since it wasn't what he had been interested in anyways.  
  
"I am a bit at a loss as to what is going on," Jaqui said. "I was under the impression that there was another object of greater value to them."  
  
Emilie shrugged. "The necklace? That was nothing to them. All I've seen them drool over is that bloody map." She noted Jaqui's blank look. "The one they need the hieroglyphics on the statue to unlock? The one I'm supposed to translate for them?" She smiled at Jaqui's continued stupefaction. "According to the bit I've read off of that map, that statue is the key to finding a fortune enough to buy that bloody necklace that they decoyed you with a dozen times over." 


	26. Anywhere

It was the door being slightly open that had put Antonio on alert when he got to Jaqui, no, Janna's home. For someone as security conscious as she was, she would never leave the door open. Marco, he thought, his heartbeat accelerating. Marco had gotten free. Gotten free and grabbed her and, oh God, no.  
  
Antonio threw open the door and charged in, the silence stopping him. He couldn't have been more than ten minutes behind Janna. Ten minutes wasn't enough time for Marco to really get started. But the utter quiet made the apartment seem more like a tomb than a torture chamber.  
  
"Conte," a low voice spoke up from the direction of Janna's studio. Marco. Janna's studio didn't have curtains, so there was enough light for Antonio to see Marco peeking around from the door, his head a few scant inches from the floor.  
  
Antonio was there in a moment. His furious demands to know where she was and what he had done died on his lips when he realized that Marco was still tied at the wrists and ankles. The closet door was open, but he hadn't managed to get completely freed from the bonds Janna had wrapped him up in.  
  
"Where is she?" Antonio asked, pulling out a pocketknife and sawing through the plastic bands holding Marco's wrists together.  
  
"I don't know," Marco replied quickly. "A few minutes before I saw her open the door, some men came in. Three of them. I stayed in here while they waited for her and when she walked in, they grabbed her and then she went limp and they took her away."  
  
"How long ago?" Antonio asked, hoping there might be time to find them. But he knew better. Anymore than a thirty second head start and there was no way to know where she was.  
  
"It was a matter of minutes ago," Marco said flatly, his tone expressing that same opinion that the girl was lost. He had no idea what kind of vehicle they were in or which direction they had gone. Antonio snapped through the plastic and Marco rubbed his raw wrists for a moment before taking the knife and starting on the ankles. He finally really looked at his boss and was more concerned about Antonio then finding the girl so that they could question her. Antonio looked...well, the best word to describe it would be heartbroken, like he had just lost something more valuable to him than then Jewels of Isabella.  
  
"Did they say anything?" Antonio tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, but he wasn't doing well at it. They couldn't have vanished. Had to have left a clue somehow, somewhere.  
  
Antonio's tone concerned Marco more than anything. He wasn't worried that his only link to getting back the Jewels was gone. He was worried about the girl herself. Antonio was soaking wet and looked rather disheveled. What had he done? More importantly, how had she managed to get to him? "They called her a few unflattering names and mentioned that their boss was going to be pleased that this was finally over," Marco answered, keeping his other ruminations to himself. Others would be more interested in those later.  
  
"Southwood," Antonio muttered. What if that contractor knew that he had found Jaqui / Janna and decided to remove her before she could tell him whom she had worked for. Her cousins would know, he thought. They might know how to get to this Southwood character. It was a starting point at the very least.  
  
Antonio focused back on Marco. "I think the person that took her might have been the last person they worked for," he said. He looked around for a second. "Her, ah, bodyguards, are in fact her cousins. There must be something around here that will say where they are and how to contact them."  
  
He rose, almost unconsciously pulling off his wet coat. Marco got to his feet as well, the muscles stiff and sore from being tied up in a cramped space for so long. "Perhaps we should leave it as it is," Marco suggested. "She is obviously going to get what she deserves from them. The necklace will most assuredly come to the black market and can be retrieved there."  
  
Marco was not prepared for the sheer ferocity of the look Antonio shot him. "Do not make me remember that had you not disobeyed me, she would not have been out like that and given those people time to get in here and take her by surprise." Marco couldn't respond. He had seen Antonio angry plenty of times, but this was far more than just being angry at being thwarted. Antonio paused for a moment, satisfied that Marco was remembering who was the master and who was the servant around here. "We are going to search this place carefully until we find out where her cousins are and how to contact them. And nothing is going to be removed from here. You do not want to try me on this Marco. Trust me on that."  
  
With that threat made clear, he turned and found the first of the bedrooms and began looking around while Marco began looking through the common areas of the house. It was obviously a male's room from the clothing in the closet and drawers, but there wasn't much of use in there. What was interesting was that he seemed to have an interest in history and one large wall was covered in a painting of a replica of a world map from about the 1700's or so. Antonio looked in the corner and sure enough, there was an elegantly twisting JJC signing the painting. He deliberately took his time going through the room, not wanting haste to make him look over the smallest detail. One of these rooms had to have some kind of address book or something to state where the cousins were. A flight itinerary. Something. Anything.  
  
The two other rooms were much more feminine, but one seemed to scream Janna's personality so much more than the other. Antonio decided to look at the other room first and only go into Janna's personal area if he had to. It wasn't that he was afraid to invade her space, but that he didn't think he could bear to see so much of what she held intimate to her and not be able to keep enough self-control to stay focused. He had led Southwood to her and put her in this danger. He was sure of that. He had to find her. There wasn't time to analyze why he was feeling like that, but the urgency was still there.  
  
The other girl's room was more disorganized and cluttered. He would have sworn the person who lived there was probably rather flighty and careless except that there seemed to be some order among the chaos. Whoever lived there could find anything at any time but a stranger was going to be in serious trouble. Finding an address book was going to be next to impossible in here. Well, he was going to have to be more determined than whoever she was. Besides, he knew all too well how organized and well planned these cousins were. Nobody could break into his home that was the slightest bit careless.  
  
A dresser with a large mirror sat against one wall. The mirror was lined with pictures and Antonio took a moment to study them, wondering who was who in them. One caught his attention immediately. It was Janna with an older woman that had to be her mother. They both had that same dark hair and eyes and most of all, that impish little smile that said nobody could stop them. Janna was wearing a cap and gown and holding what appeared to be a diploma. Antonio took it down and looked at the back. Janna and Max. He blinked. Names. She had written names on the backs of the pictures.  
  
He looked at a few others. Zane and Syl. Tyler and Me - Street-racing RULES! He paused at that one and studied the girl in the picture, realizing that she was the person that must live here. One of the cousins. He looked at the other pictures and found one right away. It was a studio portrait of a rather attractive family. A young man and woman flanked a couple that appeared to be in their early forties with two teenagers in front. The two teens were so obviously twins it was scary. Antonio flipped the picture over. Daniel - 23 Heather - 19 Me & Cameron - 17 Mom & Dad -?? Odd. Informative, but rather odd with the parents' ages not there. Perhaps they followed the rule that his mother enforced. It was polite to remember a lady's birthday but never her age.  
  
He went to put the picture back where he found it, but it slipped off of the tape and fluttered to the top of the dresser. Antonio picked it back up but the envelope under it caught his attention. 'Heather's new address' was chicken scratched onto it. The handwriting was similar to the one on the back of the pictures, but more like it was written in a hurry. It wasn't the address that made him snatch up the envelope and try to decipher the scratchings that would make a doctor proud. It was the phone number underneath. 


	27. Too Much Information

It wasn't fair. It really wasn't. That's what both of the twins thought later when they had the time to contemplate it. Sneaking out was nothing new to them. They had done it a million times when they were kids. They had snuck out of their house and then broken Janna out of the penthouse and then taken off most of the night and all got home and nobody noticed. As a matter of fact, they had snuck out of here before and gone partying all night. Nothing beat New York for an all night party. Well, except for New Orleans, but that place was nothing but one huge party.  
  
So why was it that the one time that they needed to get free, absolutely positively get out without getting caught, they couldn't even manage that. It should have been a Monday. If it was a Monday, that would have explained why when they dropped to the stone patio below them, Heather was standing right there with Jon. They had been in such a hurry to get out, neither of them took the moment to listen for a minute and see if there was anyone below. There shouldn't have been. The family should have all been inside talking about how to kill them.  
  
Heather had stepped outside with Jon to get some fresh air for a few minutes. Now that she had done what she had set out to do, it was more or less up to the parents to decide on what they were going to do to their kids. She couldn't help but feel a little bad. It was all their own fault, but she totally caught them with their pants down on this. They deserved every bit of this, they really did. But still...  
  
That little germ of sympathy that had been there dissipated the moment there were two thumps on the stone right in front of them. Liz's jaw dropped seeing Heather and Jon standing right there and there wasn't time to warn Cameron either.  
  
"It's not what you think," Liz said quickly, trying to keep Heather from yelling and alerting the rest of the family. Why couldn't it have been Max, she thought miserably. Aunt Max had to be the only cool member of the family outside of Uncle Zane and Aunt Syl. She would be proud they were trying to do the right thing, especially considering that the right thing was saving her daughter's life.  
  
"I can't believe you two," Heather managed to get out. "Did you actually think that taking off was going to help you live longer? When Mom and Dad hear about this..."  
  
"Janna's in trouble," Cameron butted in. Heather's voice was getting louder and in another few seconds it wasn't going to take sensitive Manticore hearing to know what was going on inside. Heather was a lot like Mom, and that included the volume she could shout at. Before Heather could continue yelling, Jon got at what Cameron was saying.  
  
"As in, worse than your parents knowing what you are up to trouble?" he asked, hoping that would get through to Heather. It seemed to work. She didn't yell again immediately.  
  
"The last job we did," Liz explained. "We took something we weren't supposed to...a statue of Bast that Janna asked us to grab because she thought it was cool." She ran her hands through her hair, an unconscious sign that she was truly distressed.  
  
"And now Janna just called and the guy that hired us kidnapped her and if we don't bring it to him, he's going to kill her," Cameron finished quickly, his eyes pleading with his big sister. If she didn't want them to leave, it wasn't going to be a matter of them trying to outrun her and the family. They had learned painfully that a telekinetic was not something to be played with.  
  
"We have it," Liz continued. It drove Heather crazy when they started to complete each other's sentences, but that was as unconscious as the way Liz played with her hair when she was upset. "And if we don't get it to them...quietly...they are going to kill her."  
  
Heather glared at them for a long moment. "You really think he's going to let all of you just walk away?"  
  
They both looked down for a second. "Doesn't matter what he wants," Cameron said defiantly. "We do have the advantage if they want to get nasty."  
  
Heather crossed her arms and blew out a breath. "You've got two minutes to tell me everything about this guy and then get out of here while I keep Mom and Dad from finding out that you're gone."  
  
Both of the twins perked up at that. It was the last thing they expected to hear come from Heather's mouth. She smiled a little. "I'll do whatever the hell I want to the lot of you, but nobody is going to mess with my family and get away with it. And trust me, when this is over, I am taking it out on all of you."  
  
Both of the twins grinned. Heather was a pain in the butt, but she did have the knack for coming through in an emergency. Between the two of them they managed to tell her what they knew of Southwood and promised to keep her informed. She thought for a second. She couldn't use the FBI's stuff, but that was what Uncle Xander was for. He could keep his mouth shut until they were somewhere over the Atlantic. That was a good enough jump on Mom so that she couldn't kill her for letting the twins leave like this.  
  
"I'm going to get Xander to find out everything on this guy and then I'm right behind you," Heather said quickly, knowing time was getting shorter. Liz went to protest but Heather cut her off. "It's better if he doesn't know that you have reinforcements coming from behind. Let's just hope it isn't needed."  
  
They didn't have much of a choice, but at least they agreed without an argument. In a matter of seconds, they were scampering off to get back over to France as fast as the next flight would take them.  
  
"Are you really going to try and hold off your parents?" Jon asked bemused. He wouldn't try it.  
  
"Hell no," Heather replied pertly. "I'm hoping to be back in DC before they notice that anyone is gone."  
  
"You are absolutely crazy," Jon said. This was the Heather he remembered.  
  
She shrugged with a wicked little grin. "Can't be good all of the time. You in?"  
  
"Lead the way."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Getting home had been simpler than Heather had thought possible. Well, it was simple since Jon was there. Heather had thought about telling her parents that there was an emergency at work and she had to go home for a couple of days, but in the end, the chicken way won out. And there was the fact that Lance was in New York. Lance was a friend of Jon's, a frequent visitor at Jon's resort, and of the personal opinion that any excuse to fly was a good one for him. He was 24 and had recently inherited his father's business. He hated meetings. They took him from his beloved airplane. So when Jon called him and asked for an immediate flight, he had left the meeting he was in and ran out the door, meeting Jon and Heather at a small airport right out of town. Jon and Heather had taken the twin's method of leaving and Heather turned off her cell. With luck, Mom and Dad would think that she was off burying the twins' bodies. A couple of hours later, and they were in DC. Heather left Jon at her place and headed over to talk to Xander.  
  
Heather drove over to Xander's quickly, hoping that Jon would be able to get them a flight over to France ASAP. Holiday season was the worst time to be traveling, but she didn't care what it took. Her little brother and sister were in a lot more trouble than just what the parents could dish out, and speaking of them, she would prefer if there were an ocean between them when they found out that she let them go over to Europe without letting anyone know.  
  
She squealed up into the driveway, barely taking the time to throw the car into park before leaping out of it. He so better be home. She bolted through the door, hoping that if Xander had a guest, he wasn't otherwise occupied. She knew that he had a different attitude about being interrupted, but there was just no way she could get over that. Trying to have a conversation was just out of the question at that point. Acceptable and icky were not always two different things. As she flew through the door, Xander was in the living room. That was good. He was fully dressed. God was obviously on her side.  
  
Before he could utter a word, she was already giving him the ten-second explanation of the entire situation. "Uncle Xander!" she yelled, screeching to a halt on the living room rug. "We got a problem. Weasels been snatching stuff all over the freaking place and now they tangled with someone they shouldn't and he's got Janna and I have to find out everything I can about this guy but I can't use the FBI stuff because Chambers is a dumbass and won't let me use it for personal reasons but Janna's in serious trouble and so are the twins and I think I have about an hour head start over Mom but that's not going to keep her from killing us all but at least it will be her and not someone else." She managed to get that out in a single breath. So why wasn't Xander saying anything?  
  
He was actually staring. Not at her though. Heather turned slowly, following his line of sight to the kitchen door. Her eyes widened and for a moment all she could do was gape in shock as Special Agent Tynell Chambers leaned against the doorframe and casually ate a Frito out of the bag he was holding.  
  
Chambers' gaze went from Heather back to Xander. "Something you'd like to tell me...bro?" he asked laconically.  
  
For a moment, cool, calm Xander Brickman, always in control, the man in charge, looked like a small child that had just gotten so busted with the cookie jar. Past bedtime. And spilled the milk too. All over a hand- woven Persian rug. "Umm..." he squeaked. "Yeah...actually there is. Those are Cole's and if you eat them all he's going to hunt you down and hurt you." And with that declaration one of the most dangerous and efficient weapons of destruction turned on his heel and made a valiant attempt to run like hell.  
  
He actually made it roughly two steps when he was suddenly picked up by invisible hands and slammed against the nearest wall, pinning him soundly against it as he was lifted until his head touched the ceiling. "Heather, put me down!" he yelled, unable to keep from squirming, knowing that he wasn't going to be dropped until she was good and ready. At least it got Ty to drop Cole's Fritos. As a matter of fact, he was slowly coming out of the kitchen, dark skin turning an ashy gray, his eyes huge as he saw what an X-7 was capable of.  
  
"Got something to tell me, Uncle Xander?" Heather drawled out, crossing her arms as she emphasized the word 'uncle'. She was still trying to assimilate the whole Chambers X-6 she called him a dumbass thing. It wasn't working well.  
  
"Yeah," he said, feeling like a total idiot for being so helpless. "Your mother called and wanted to know if I had seen you. I can call her back and change that to a yes." That got his head smacked against the ceiling. Cole had said that she had gotten much stronger over the last few years. He was right. Xander was just glad there wasn't a cliff nearby.  
  
"Like you can get to a phone until I let you," she snapped.  
  
Tynell blew out a soft breath, getting Heather's attention. The shock was fading out some and his lips twitched in what might have been an attempt to smile. "Drea insisted the whole way home that you were just like me," he said softly. "Leave it to her to notice first." His gaze sharpened, and he looked back at Xander. "You said that 608 had a male child," he said accusingly.  
  
"Do the math," Heather replied before Xander could say anything. "If I was the oldest, then I would be almost four years older. I tend to refer the male child as my big brother. And why didn't you notice my parents' names off of my records when I applied to HRT?"  
  
He gave her an odd look. "What was to notice about Christopher and Anna Raleigh? Not like there was a 599 and 608 to give it away. "  
  
Heather blinked. "That's not what's on my records. I put down Zack and Alicia." They both paused for a second and then looked back at Xander. He tried to give a charming smile but was failing miserably.  
  
"Lon," he said simply. Heather had seen Chambers irritated before at people falling behind. She had seen him pissed at people for royally screwing up. She had not seen him as totally enraged as what that one simple word managed to do.  
  
He turned that burning gaze onto Heather and for a moment, she wanted to apologize. "Drop him," he ordered harshly and she reacted instantly, releasing the mental pressure that was keeping Xander up. Though she did make sure that both his feet jerked up again just before hitting the ground so that he managed to land in a jumbled pile on the floor.  
  
How he landed didn't really matter though. Tynell was already there, hauling him to his feet and slamming him against the wall hard enough to make the plaster crack. "YOU KNEW!" he yelled. "You've all known? What, Alpha Team only information? I thought we were done with that, 632." His voice lowered to a growl. "I *thought* that there wasn't going to be Alpha, Beta, Charlie and Delta anymore. We were all leveled. And you fucking knew." He slammed him against the wall again for emphasis.  
  
In a single sharp move, Xander jerked to the right, dropping slightly and getting his hand onto Ty's chest. He used his leverage off of the wall to shove Ty back as hard as he could, flinging him easily back nearly halfway across the room. Ty was on his feet in a second and launched himself back at Xander. From her vantage point, Heather could finally see the difference in how they had been ranked. Xander was just flat out better. He wasn't trying to really hurt his brother and that was the only thing keeping Tynell from serious injury. Xander was blocking him at every turn and making it seem almost effortless. However, it wasn't solving her problems.  
  
Xander went to do a leg sweep on Ty and suddenly Ty wasn't there anymore. Ty was making some interesting noises and Xander found himself rather rudely shoved back. He glanced over at Heather and she was glaring at the both of them, one hand unconsciously rubbing the back of her neck. Sure sign she was overdoing herself. Xander could fight her and push her into a headache so that she would stop using her advantages, but the last time he had done that, he had to deal with Zack. He could deal with Alicia. When he had to deal with Zack, it was simply a good thing that he didn't scar.  
  
"I appreciate the talk show moment, I really do," Heather said conversationally. "But can you guys get all weepy on Oprah later? My little brother and sister are really in trouble and they dragged our cousin along for the ride as usual."  
  
She looked at her boss and gave him a weak smile. "I know what I'm about to do would cost me my badge if any of it took place in the US. But it all takes place outside of our jurisdiction anyways, and besides, I'm not going to let the brats get killed just to prove a point."  
  
He blinked. "We are going to have a very long talk when you get back to work," he murmured. Whatever she was going to do, chances of it boiling down to covering a criminal act was very high. She was sworn to turn in any criminals and they would be extradited to face punishment for their crimes, but there was that Manticore element involved. When Manticore dissolved, he knew that he and Lon were put in the FBI for the express purpose of making sure that if any rogues ever came above radar by doing something illegal, they would be inside to make sure it got squashed. It had been a long time since he had been called on to do such, but that directive had never been changed in over twenty years. It wasn't going to change now.  
  
"Xan, I need you to find out everything you can on this guy and get it to me. I'm going to be off to France as soon as I can, so you'll have to call, but I need to know what I am dealing with like yesterday."  
  
Xander thought for a second. "And your mother has no idea that you let the kids take off and are following, does she?"  
  
Heather shrugged. "She knows. That's why I need to leave the country ASAP. I don't have time to stay and find it myself."  
  
"Heather, she told me to keep you here until she got here. You're a great kid, but quite simply, I fear her far more than I love you." Xander was expecting Tynell to roll his eyes or snort in disbelief, but obviously he remembered 608 quite well and how easily she could kick the ass of anyone that got in her way.  
  
Heather's eyes narrowed. "That's not what you were saying when you helped me throw that party my junior year at Harvard."  
  
"Only because the chances of her finding out were nonexistent."  
  
Xander did not like the little smile of triumph that touched Heather's mouth. It was too much like Alicia when she had won, but her opponent didn't know that yet. "The chances of her finding out could increase greatly if you didn't help," she said icily.  
  
Xander didn't flinch. He was far too well trained to back down despite the fact that party was one of those things that he would prefer to keep secret until his deathbed. "You really think that blackmail is going to work on me?"  
  
Heather blinked. "It usually does," she replied, making him smile a little. When harshness wouldn't work on Xander, charm would. "The brats are going to get themselves out of this mess. I just want to be there in the background in case it all goes to hell. And to make sure Dad doesn't leave them tied up in the closet for too many months. Please, Uncle Xander? Mom's going to ask you to do the same thing and this is just going to give you a jump on it."  
  
Xander blew out a breath, not believing that he was going to do this. "Tell me what you know and I'll call you later. But that party never happened, right?"  
  
Heather grinned. "What party?" She had written down everything that the twins had told her and gave that to Xander.  
  
She looked over at Chambers before she left, not sure if she should say something or try to explain or what. "Go save your brother and sister," he spoke up first. "Just see me when you get back." Heather almost laughed. Only an X-6 could be so casual about saving a sibling from a life or death situation. She ran out the door before Xander could change his mind. Tynell was just more amused at the way she had handled Xander.  
  
"You know," Ty said when she left, "that she totally played you."  
  
Xander thought about it for a second. "She did, didn't she?" He shrugged. "Oh well, trust me, she's not nearly as bad as her sister."  
  
Ty's eyebrows rose in question. "Her sister is worse?"  
  
Xander laughed. "Imagine Andrea as an X-7."  
  
Ty thought about it. "There's not enough booze in the world that could get me through that." On that thought, both of them started flipping through the notes in Xander's hand. Tynell was usually a stickler for the rules, and the rules said that being part of this was wrong, but when there was an X in front of you, all rules changed. It wasn't agents getting in trouble. It was family.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It wasn't easy to get the flight over to France, but Jon knew a few people and managed to get it done. He had to charm the socks off of two ticket agents and call in a favor from a friend, but that's what they were there for. One of the ticket agents practically was begging for a number to call him back. He hoped that she wouldn't be there when they left. If she saw him with another woman, then the chances of them catching the Concorde of out O'Hare was going to be about zero. Jon was pleased with the arrangements in the avoiding parents department as well. They were going to catch a flight in two hours out to Chicago and then the Concorde to France. Not bad for one not used to dealing with sneaking around and subterfuge.  
  
Heather had just called and said that Xander had agreed to help. Jon sighed with relief at that. Now they could get the hell out of there. The phone rang again, and he glanced at the number on the Caller ID. He was not going to get caught answering Heather's phone again if one of her parents called. Foreign Number. Di LiCossa. Jon grabbed it, expecting to hear Luisa's silky voice.  
  
"Hey, it's Jonathan," he answered. "What's up?"  
  
"Jonathan?" The rough male voice was certainly not Luisa. It took Jon a second, but then he understood.  
  
"Antonio? This is Jonathan Hamilton. Good, Luisa decided to tell you what she did. Listen, Heather's checking something out right now, but we've got some good leads and as a matter of fact are heading back over today."  
  
There was a long pause. "Would any of these leads put you where I am?"  
  
Every hair on the back of Jon's neck stood up as some primitive instinct of alarm went off. "And you are where?"  
  
Three words. It only took three words from Antonio's mouth and Jon knew that all of what they had thought was a problem before was piddling in comparison. Kidnapping, murderers, Mafia, none of it could hold a candle to what was stated by those three little words.  
  
"Janna Jacqueline Cale." 


	28. Three Little Words

Jon had no idea how long he stood there, absolutely stupefied after Antonio spoke. Talk, he ordered himself. Say something that would put Antonio at ease and let him know that Janna was perfectly innocent in this mess. Use your charm and eloquence to smooth over the situation. Sure. Except that the only noise he could make at the moment was to let out a trapped breath. And all of the smooth elegance that he normally could summon seemed to have taken a holiday on it's own. All Jon could think was that Antonio knew who Janna was...knew where she was...and actually knew her real name...  
  
"Luisa hasn't told you anything has she?" Jon finally asked hesitantly.  
  
"I have not talked to my sister in several days," Antonio replied calmly. "I see now that was a mistake."  
  
On the other side of the ocean, Antonio stood in the bedroom of Janna's cousin, trying to keep calm. Jonathan Hamilton? Of all the people to be involved...but it made sense. Perhaps it was true then that there were no such things as family friends. The police had been convinced that someone with inside information had been involved. And Jonathan had been to his house more than once. Antonio looked at the pictures on the mirror again, and then spotted one at the very bottom. Much younger, yes, but still the same man, it was Jonathan and the girl with the dark red-gold hair from the family photo. He picked it up and flipped it over.  
  
"Heather and Jon, Senior Prom," he read with a disdainful little snort. "Rather pretty girl. Did she help you plan this?"  
  
Jon rolled his eyes. Seemed like Liz was still keeping her mirrors lined with pictures. Nobody knew where she got the idea of doing that, but she had started when she was around ten and had never stopped, just updated. And then it hit him. He knew who Janna was. And he was pissed. Of course he would be. He had something stolen from him. And he knew who had done it. Crap. The twins must have gotten it wrong. Janna must have been forced to tell them the wrong thing, maybe to walk them into a trap. Jon didn't know why he would be calling here, but if Antonio touched Janna, there was going to be hell to pay.  
  
"Listen to me, Antonio," he said, his voice full of urgency. "You do not want to hurt her. Just trust me on this. You don't understand what you're dealing with and there is no place on the face of this planet you're going to be able to hide if anything happens to her. I'm with her cousin now, and the other two are going to be returning the statue like you want, and we'll make them get the necklace back from whoever has it. That's not a problem. But you do not, under any circumstances, want to hurt her."  
  
Antonio heard what Jon said and paused, trying to digest what he was hearing. He had Janna? They thought he had her? Wait. What was it that Luisa knew that she should have told him? None of this was making sense. Luisa would not have been involved with a theft like this. It wasn't like she needed the money since she had a rather substantial trust fund in her own right. And Jonathan also already knew about Janna. He hated doing this, but there was only one way to find out what had happened to her. He was going to have to be nice and ask rather than just intimidate and demand.  
  
"Jonathan," he said, "I found this phone number in Janna's apartment. One of my men saw her get kidnapped. I thought of anyone, her cousins and partners in crime would know who had her and be able to help get her back."  
  
Jon blinked. Antonio sounded, well, worried about Janna. He thought about what Logan had said in jest. Maybe it was in the genes. "The evil two are already on their way back to give the kidnappers what they want in exchange for Janna," he said evenly. "You don't have her at all?"  
  
"If I had her, I wouldn't be asking where she was. And how much of this does my sister know?"  
  
"At this point, I would say less than you." Jon decided to come as clean as he could. Maybe Antonio could be persuaded to not press charges against them if he got everything back and they promised to leave the country. Actually, after seeing what they were going to have to deal with when they got back to the US, and knowing that their parents were going to be worse than their sister, he might decide that letting them go to jail would be getting off easy.  
  
He blew out a breath. "Listen, Luisa showed me that video of the thief going through a window. I...umm...it's this wire trick thing that I knew a couple of people who could do it. So, I asked a friend who is in law enforcement in the US to check it out, and the reason why I asked her is because she was one of those people that knew that trick. And she put it together and we got the first two but then something happened to Janna before we could get her too." Not the greatest explanation, but it made sense enough.  
  
"The kidnappers have made contact?" Antonio asked. He thought Jonathan was telling him the truth, but there was still something odd. Janna had said it was the use of guide wires that got her cousin out of the house. But...never mind. There were more important things to worry about.  
  
"Yeah. We're going to follow the kids and make sure they do what they are supposed to this time."  
  
"I am coming with you." It wasn't a request.  
  
Jon almost laughed. A horrified smile touched his mouth at the thought of Antonio being a part of this. Shouldn't he just be glad that he was going to get back what was stolen from him? Or did he just want to be able to make a positive ID later on all three of them. "Antonio, the three of them are going to get a righteous ass kicking and you're going to get back what was taken from you. But I know who you're dealing with and they're not going to let you get your hands on any of them."  
  
"I've got enough evidence here to have them extradited from any country and stand trial," Antonio growled. He didn't want to explain that he had already had his hands all over Janna once and she didn't seem to mind at all. "But that does not need to happen. I will pick you up from the airport and we will go from there." He paused and in a much softer tone added, "I have gotten to know Janna over the last few days. I would prefer that she not go to jail and I want to make sure she is not hurt."  
  
Jon thought again about Logan's words at Daniel's earlier. He smiled. Yeah, had to be in the genes. He gave Antonio the flight times and they hung up. Jon had the number if there was going to be any changes. As he put down the receiver, Heather burst through the front door.  
  
"You're never going to believe what just happened!" they both said at the same time. 


	29. Trade Plans

Southwood was exactly thirty-seven seconds early, Cameron thought sourly when his cell phone rang. The thing was driving him crazy. He couldn't afford to answer it when a familiar number had come up, and a few unfamiliar ones as well. Parents. Telling them to get their worthless selves home right then and there and don't make it worse on them. And all that could be said without leaving voicemail. But they had to do this, and as quietly as possible. If they could just make the trade and run, then that would be much better in the long run. Maybe. Hopefully.  
  
But then Cameron's phone rang and the same number that had come up on Liz's phone was there. Southwood wasn't giving them even a second of leeway on if they had the statue or not. But they did have it. Liz had been looking at it a lot since they had made it back to Europe, her fingers tracing out the hieroglyphics on the base. What was so special about this thing? It was kind of ugly as a matter of fact. Cam was the history buff in the group and he enjoyed looking at artifacts and the like. He had even spent a few weeks in Egypt the last couple of digging seasons, helping to excavate a tomb. In all of his studies of lost art, this wasn't anything he had come across before. It looked kind of cheap. Something that might have been made a few hundred years ago for visitors to Egypt, but not something that would have been buried with a Pharaoh.  
  
Cam answered the phone with a rough German accent, trying to step into the role of Jaqui's bodyguard, not Janna's cousin. It would be proper that he was annoyed with the situation, but not passionate about it. This was business, not personal. "Jaqui," he greeted curtly.  
  
"Bon jour, Franz," Jaqui greeted as if she was making a social call to see how they were enjoying their vacation. "I trust that you have received the package from my clients."  
  
"They delivered it to us as promised," Cameron replied. There was a soft hiss in the background that was a hallmark that someone else was listening in on this call. "They had some other commitments to attend to unfortunately, so they had to leave shortly after delivery."  
  
"Ah well," she said. "As long as you and Anna will not mind dropping it off for me, then there should be no problems."  
  
She was suddenly no longer on the line and a man began giving instructions for where to meet them. They were to take a high-speed train to Athens in Greece. A warehouse, how predictable, and then they would make the trade. No police. Like that was going to happen. Officers, our cousin was kidnapped because we stole something else when we were only supposed to be snatching a multi-million dollar necklace. Can you help up get her back?  
  
On the plus side, even with trying to disguise his voice, Cameron recognized Bentley, Southwood's lawyer. This was just about the statue and nothing to do with their hyped genetics. That was something that him and Liz had talked about and worried over on the way to Europe. What if they were supposed to get caught so that Southwood could get his hands on a transgenic while it was in jail? Crazy, but then again the whole situation was as well. Maybe it was a good thing that Heather knew what was going on. All of the action that they had seen was in the shadows, trying to not be part of it. She had actually been in the line of fire before. Still, if Bentley thought that putting a handkerchief over the phone was fooling them, then he had no idea about their hearing and if he didn't know about that, then he wouldn't know about the rest.  
  
Liz called Heather and left a message with the plans on her cell phone. For her to have it off had to mean they were already on their way over to Europe. That was sort of comforting in a way. It was good to know that there was going to be backup. Unfortunately, this backup was coming with a price. They were going to be in a world of hurt when this was over. As a matter of fact, chances of family lining up and each having a few minutes to "explain" the error of their ways was quite likely. Well, not much they could do about it now.  
  
The second they got on the train, there was that "creepy" feeling. They were being watched. Probably had listening devices close to them as well. It was all being done rather well and would have been quite successful had the targets not been strong telepaths. It was reassuring in a way. If they were trying such typical ways of spying, then Janna hadn't said a word. Hadn't been forced to say anything. Both of them remembered to make some occasional, light conversation, most of it centered around how annoyed they were at having to do a piddling little errand for Jaqui when they were supposed to be on vacation. There better be a bonus in their pay. They were hired hands, nothing more, nothing less. Mentally, their conversation revolved around losing their followers, casing where the trade was going to be made and getting in and out of there as quickly and painlessly as possible. They weren't going to even try and keep the statue. Neither of them cared how valuable it might be; Janna was worth a great deal more.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"They're going to be here soon aren't they?" Emilie asked. She knew the answer already. Jaqui had exhibited absolutely no fear whatsoever that her partners, or whoever they were, weren't going to show up. Family, Emilie thought. You don't trust employees this implicitly. Trust like she was showing was reserved for people that you have a tight bond with. And there were very few bonds tighter than blood. In any case, Emilie wanted Jaqui to start talking again.  
  
"Of course," Jaqui replied with all of the confidence she had been showing since she had been thrown in the cell. "I am willing to bet that if they missed their train then I would already be dead." She grinned. "Besides, it is quite difficult to get a paycheck when you let your employer get killed."  
  
Emilie laughed. "You got a point there. That must be a good thing then. Get you out of here quicker."  
  
There was a slight tone of wistfulness that made Janna glance down. Over the last seventeen hours or so she had gotten to know Emilie and felt rather bad at the prospect of leaving her here. Chances of her surviving this mess were rather slim. "Is it possible that you can translate the map for them and leave with me?" she asked Emilie. They really hadn't talked much about the map and it's specifics. It seemed to upset Emilie. "Once you have the statute you can do it."  
  
Emilie smiled bitterly. "It's not a map like you think. No X to mark the spot. It's more a key to a puzzle. The map tells you which hieroglyph to pick. The rest of the instructions are within the caves where the treasure is hidden. If you don't have the map and pick the wrong set, then you die." She shrugged. "I know that sounds like something out of a children's movie about finding a lost treasure, but it could be true. In either case, there are still a lot of places that haven't been fully explored. Entrances get blocked, earthquakes change the landscape. What I do know for certain is that man out there knows where the start is and he's very desperate to find the end. I'm not going anywhere until he's got his mountains that glitter." She paused and looked at Janna with a rather thoughtful smile. "And you're not French are you?"  
  
Janna jumped a little. She wasn't expecting two people in less than a week to realize her ruse. What was wrong with this? Most of the people she spoke to in France thought that she was French. And that was when she was being Janna fooling around. When she was in Jaqui mode, Antonio had been the only one to ever suspect that she wasn't what she said she was. And that included the client that had been from Paris. He was the one that said he had been nervous about going to them, but since he was dealing with a fellow countryman, it made him feel better.  
  
"Why on Earth would you ever think that?" she asked, not letting her confusion show.  
  
Emilie let out a little laugh, her voice lowering. "Your grammar is excellent, vocabulary even better. But do not try and fool a linguist. We're rather clever at hearing things you know."  
  
Janna had to laugh. This day was just getting better and better. She was so going back to the States and not coming out for a few years. At least. Antonio could visit her there. Antonio. How was she going to explain him to Liz and Cam? That was another worry that she was going to have to deal with later. Right now, she needed to prioritize. And right now, her priority was getting out of this mess and getting Emilie out with her. She wasn't going to let Emilie know that her employees were actually cousins that could qualify as superheroes if they would be all truth, justice and the American way. But one way or another, she wasn't going to just leave Emilie to die here.  
  
"Perhaps," Janna said, not losing the accent, "I could just say that I like being French and let you draw your own conclusions."  
  
Emilie pretended to pout. "That's not exactly helpful," she complained. "I rather like being Irish myself and I know that I was born in Dublin."  
  
Before anything else could be said, the door was flung open and the minion with the twisted scar came shambling in. He glared at the two women and then his gaze focused on Janna, eyes glittering full of hate and lust towards her. She had to fight from swallowing against the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. It was all fine and good to pretend to be Jaqui and be totally confident and in control of herself, but it was Janna's body that was going to die if the slightest thing went wrong.  
  
"You," he grunted, a thick meaty finger pointing at Janna. "Boss wants you."  
  
Janna got up, determined not to tremble. Were they here? Had the deal been done already? Maybe they could leave and then watch the place and get Emilie when bad guys moved. Maybe. And there was still the question of where the necklace was. Janna did want to get that back if they could. Keep calm, she ordered herself. No freaking out now. Just relax and let things happen. It would be okay. It would work out. As long as she didn't pee her pants, it would all be okay. 


	30. Renegotiations

Janna was led out into the hall around and then finally up a set of stairs. That wasn't the way they had taken her into the room the first time. She cursed mentally. There was no way they would be able to get back there and get Emilie out in that tight of quarters. They were going to have to wait until Southwood moved out and then get her then. Yeah. That would work as well. And then it was direct to the USA, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars.  
  
Where she was taken looked like a warehouse of sorts. If Janna had thought that Southwood was angry before, that was nothing compared to the way he looked just then. His teeth were so clinched in his cigar that she was sure he was about to bite all the way through it. This was not a good sign.  
  
"You're 'employees' didn't make it to their train stop," he growled. His eyes had a deadly menace and Janna couldn't help a swallow. What the hell had happened to them?  
  
"Are you sure about that?" she asked, not able to muster up the confidence Jaqui would be able to have. "Those two have made a career over not being seen when they don't want to be." She could feel sweat forming at her hairline. Something had to have happened to them. There was no way they would fail her. Unless someone had ambushed them.  
  
Southwood stood and held out his hand to a minion. Minion immediately handed him a gun. He aimed it carefully at her head. "Very sure," he sneered. Janna tensed. If she had to go, it wouldn't be standing there looking dumb. She didn't really think she could take one with her, but she was going to give it her best shot.  
  
The loud banging that began suddenly wasn't gunfire. Half a dozen men in the room began pulling guns out of jackets. There was a moment of silence and then three more bangs. Southwood was still for a moment and then gestured towards the front door with his gun. The man closest to the door went to it and carefully opened it.  
  
Liz strolled through the door casually, Cam trailing behind her as if this was a perfectly normal way for them to spend their time. Janna gave a silent prayer of thanks. Mostly the thanks was because her knees didn't buckle in relief at the sight of them and she was able to stay on her feet. First, thank them profusely; second, kill them for pulling a disappearing act on Southwood's men.  
  
Southwood looked at one of his men angrily. The man took a step back. "They weren't on the train!" he practically cried out, his accent declaring that he was American.  
  
Cam laughed lightly, still keeping the German accent. "Were you the one that was trying to watch us?" He sighed. "Since you were being so obvious, we had to make alternate arrangements."  
  
"It tends to draw suspicion when someone is staring at you the entire trip," Liz added, looking bored. She held up the bag and addressed Janna. "We have what your clients brought to us."  
  
The poise that had momentarily deserted Janna returned in a flash. She gave them a wide smile. "I suppose your holiday bonus is going to have to be increased this year," she said teasingly.  
  
"We already have the bill prepared," Cameron returned. His tone was sufficient to make the casual listener think that he was just hired help, a little annoyed at having to make this side trip. But on the inside, he was getting nervous. When Janna was being Jaqui, she tended to get closed off to their minds. But there was something stressing her, making her not want to leave. Cameron didn't care what was the matter, he was getting her out of there and they would figure out the rest later. He and Liz already knew they had to deal with their parents and that wasn't going to be pretty. The last thing he wanted was to have to deal with Aunt Max and Uncle Logan as well.  
  
Liz was getting nervous as well. It had been easy enough to get away from Southwood's men at the train station. They had scouted the place well and hadn't been detected. When they saw through a window Janna getting dragged out from some other part of the building, they had hauled butt to get down there and make their entrance before anything happened to her. It should be a simple enough matter to make the trade and get the hell out of there.  
  
But something was up with Janna and, more importantly, something was up with Southwood. His mind was too tight to read fully, but his men were more open. Liz was starting to get a nasty feeling that none of them were supposed to get out of this alive. All over a little statue? What the hell was so important over it? It was old, yes, and probably valuable in some way, but the necklace had to be worth a hell of a lot more.  
  
"Take it out of the bag," Southwood ordered. "And you don't want to do anything stupid."  
  
(stupid was taking the contract in the first place)  
  
(no kidding...janna's worried about someone else here)  
  
(she is? she is...this isn't going down right...something is very bad here)  
  
(i know...go slow and be ready)  
  
Liz carefully unzipped the bag. They had removed the statue from the sculpture that Janna had put it in for its trip across the ocean. She slowly removed the sculpture and held it up for Southwood to see. Southwood motioned to the man that had been next to Janna. The man's leer was enough to put both twins on edge right then and there. Cameron wished he had been the one holding the bag. He didn't want this guy anywhere near his sister. But to grab the statue from her now would be interpreted badly.  
  
"If this is a fake..." Southwood growled.  
  
"Then it was made a few centuries ago to screw with someone else," Cameron said, letting a slight annoyance creep through the boredom. "And that means you've wasted all of our time with a wild goose chase."  
  
The minion took the statue from Liz, his finger sliding across hers. Only a lot of years of learning to conceal her abilities kept Liz from recoiling back. Physical touch heightened all sensations of the mind. Liz got a jolt of what was running through the man's head. It was like she had just gotten a load of slime thrown over her.  
  
(oh god...bloody hell...sick...oh, he's sick)  
  
(LIZ?)  
  
(it was a decoy...oh...oh, he's sick...god...poor girl)  
  
(you're turning pale...calm down before they notice!)  
  
Get under control, Liz ordered herself. He's a sick freak, but you can snap him into little pieces if you had to. And now that she knew, if he laid a finger on Janna, he was going to pay dearly for it. Quickly, she let her twin see what she had seen in that freak's mind. The necklace was a decoy for this statue. There was a maid, some girl that was a maid in the house, she was supposed to take the statue and it would have been blamed on the thieves. A day or two after the thefts, Southwood's man had taken care of the girl. He had enjoyed the task. And he liked dark-haired girls and was enjoying reliving the moment with Janna's face and body overlaying the maid's in his mind.  
  
Cameron was sickened but they had to play it cool. They were dealing with thieves and murderers and people that would kill just for the fun of it. No more touching any of them. That was going to have to be the ground rule. He didn't want to know what was going on in their more secret thoughts and Liz wouldn't be able to take it if she had to do that again. She was tough, but there was a limit to toughness.  
  
Nobody really noticed Liz's moment. They were fascinated with Southwood and whatever he was doing. Janna was one of the few that actually looked like she knew what was going on. She had actually seen it done before at a seminar showing how fakes are detected. Southwood was running a light gun that was connected to a laptop over the statue. The light was showing micro fine cracks and imperfections in the statue and then comparing it to a known imprint that had been taken before, probably for an insurance company. Lines like that were almost impossible to duplicate. The computer beeped, and Southwood smiled. There seemed to be a feeling of relief that suddenly emanated from every man in the room.  
  
"Let her go," Southwood ordered his minion holding Janna. "They decided to play smart and brought me the real thing."  
  
Janna felt the man holding her shoulder release it, and gave thanks again that her cousins decided not to be cute and try and pull a fast one. This just needed to be over with. They would watch closely and get Emilie out as soon as possible and call it good. But that was for later. Now they just needed to walk out of there very, very fast. She smiled charmingly at Southwood.  
  
"Monsieur, I would say that our business is now concluded," she declared. "Please do not take this the wrong way, but I do hope that we not see each other again." She turned towards her cousins and walked towards them confidently, not wanting any of the men to know how scared she still was. She had just reached them when Southwood called out her name.  
  
Janna turned back towards him slowly. Both twins were on red alert all of a sudden. Janna had never believed she had ESP abilities like her cousins, but all of a sudden she just knew that the chance for the happy ending scenario had just ended. His smile said he had them right where he wanted them. This was so not going to be pretty.  
  
"It was rather frustrating that your clients were out there in the world and they knew me but I did not know them. I thank you for rectifying that situation." His smile could have been used as a model for paintings of the devil. "Bodyguards and clients. I did not think it could be true at first. Well done." He made a casual hand gesture. "Kill them."  
  
The twins had once heard their mother and Cole talking about the X-7's and how they were supposed to have been used at Manticore. Cole knew how he had used his abilities and that was with no training on them. Cam and Liz had talked it over and didn't think it was really all that viable. They couldn't do everything that Mom and Cole had been talking about. It just wasn't that strong. But they had never been put into a situation where their abilities were the only thing between living and dying.  
  
There were eight or so men in the room besides Southwood and Bentley. None of them were shielding their thoughts in the slightest. Suddenly every detail was perfectly clear. The twins knew where they were going to aim, who was going to shoot which one, angles, distances, absolutely everything was right there. They had overheard their mother rhetorically ask how someone could fight a person that knew what you were going to do before you did it. Now they knew. You couldn't.  
  
Gunfire erupted all around them, but no bullet managed to make its mark. Janna felt Cameron grab her and let him take her wherever he wanted. Since they seemed rather alive after the first volley, she figured that he had an idea of what he was doing. Chances were, him and Liz had already made a plan to get out of there and now it was just a matter of following them. Get out now, get Emilie later. When bullets started whizzing overhead that seemed like the best game plan possible.  
  
Liz and Cam knew that out of the two of them, Cam was stronger and better able to lift Janna or make a power jump with her in arms. Liz was quicker and better suited to creating a diversion and getting the hell out of there. As they scattered, they knew the men were going to follow Janna first. Liz had to get their attention and then duck. They had done it to plenty of security guards. But this wasn't like when they were on a job. Right now everyone was shooting at them and they could only play dodge bullets for so long. Her and Cameron could do some high jumps and get to the upper windows and take off. But there was no way that they could do it with Janna. And the only way to the one door they knew led out was very much blocked.  
  
(get her to the doors)  
  
(liz...NO!)  
  
Cameron didn't have time to stop his twin or keep her from jumping in and start physically attacking Southwood's men. It was too close of quarters to shoot at that point, but there was no way she could take out eight men without help. As much as he loved his cousin, he wasn't going to leave his other half out in the cold.  
  
"Go!" he snapped to Janna, not even thinking that he had dropped the German accent and pushed her lightly towards the door before turning and moving in at blinding speed to help his sister.  
  
Janna took half a step and then whipped around. The three of them got into messes together, they got out of them together. Case closed. She wasn't as fast or as strong, but the first man that grabbed her soon learned there wasn't much difference. A fast drop to the floor and a high heel to the crotch was pretty much debilitating no matter what kind of genetics the person delivering the blow had.  
  
"KILL THEM YOU FOOLS!" Southwood shouted, but the twins were dancing around the other men easily, too fast to lay a punch on and if a shot was taken, chances were that it was one of their own men that was going to get hit. Southwood could only watch as two of his men were suddenly on the ground unconscious and that little French tart managed to have a third on the ground. The women Southwood knew were the screaming, hair-pulling sort when a fight broke out. He had badly underestimated these two. They weren't screeching and crying and flinging fists around. At some point in their lives they had obviously had some serious training in hand-to-hand combat. But his bag of tricks wasn't empty yet either.  
  
Both twins felt it at once. The guy with the scar...the one that had freaked out Liz...he was suddenly gone from the fight and they both could feel his sense of triumph. He was coming back and had some heavy artillery this time. And that guy wasn't the type to worry about someone getting killed due to friendly fire.  
  
(liz...statue...they won't destroy it)  
  
Liz understood immediately. Cameron got two men distracted and Liz was able to toss the one on her. She moved fast towards Southwood, vaguely registering that Bentley had pulled out a gun. She dodged the bullets, for once not caring what her parents were going to do to them when they found out how showy the two of them had been in front of strangers. As a matter of fact, seeing the parents at any time in the near future would be a good thing no matter what they did to them.  
  
Bentley jumped in front of his boss and assumed a Tae Kwon Do stance that Liz recognized. She would have laughed if there had been time. Bentley thought she was going after his boss. Nah. She wanted what the boss was willing to kill for. That was far more valuable. She sidestepped at the last moment and dodged a hard kick that would have snapped into the side of her head. She dropped low and then the statue was in her hand. She was on her feet in a second when the second blow caught her square in the back.  
  
Liz was shoved into Southwood. With the fighting, his mental shields were down and the physical contact heightened her ability to read him tenfold. And she knew. In one searing flash she understood what was really going on and why. American, yes. Trouble with the Mafia in Las Vegas. Lost a shipment of theirs. Cops. He should have gotten arrested for it. They would have respected that but he ran instead. Now he owed them the money. He had until New Year's Day. Statue. A map. Hieroglyphs. Treasure beyond compare. Desperation. Yes. So much of that. Desperation. No money left for another ploy. No time. This or nothing. Desperation.  
  
And that was all Liz needed to know what to do. Wouldn't get them out, but it would give them time. She shoved Southwood back, using the leverage to propel herself towards the table next to the wall. She jumped, landing on it easily and spun around, hefting the statue.  
  
"SOUTHWOOD!" she yelled. Maybe it was her imagination, but timed seemed to slow and all eyes were on her. No time to back down now. And no time for a soul to stop her either.  
  
She swung the statue hard, slamming it into the wall, shattering it irrevocably.  
  
For a second, everyone in the room seemed to freeze, shocked at the sound of the stone shattering. Liz's mouth curled up in a little smile. "The hieroglyphs aren't gone," she almost purred and then tapped her temple. "And there's only one way to get them out of there. I say it's time for some contract renegotiation." 


	31. Rough Flight

Jon noticed that Heather had gotten more and more quiet on the flight back to Europe. She had breathed a sigh of relief when they got over the Atlantic Ocean without incident. Incident being the parents getting their hands on them. Their talk had been mostly about the twins and Janna and the various ways they were going to die when she got her hands on them. A good portion was set aside for her amazement over her boss also being an X- 6. Did that mean he was now invited over for the holidays? Jon knew his family was classified as dysfunctional, but if he wanted to feel better about his upbringing, he just had to spend some time with Heather's family. They had officially cornered the market on strange family relationships.  
  
But she had gotten quiet over the last hour or so. She was mostly staring out the window, gazing thoughtfully on the ocean below them. He touched her hair lightly to get her attention. "Are you okay?" he asked hesitantly, knowing how lame it sounded. There wasn't much that could be classified as okay right then.  
  
Heather smiled a little at Jon. She was go glad he was there. She honestly wasn't sure how she would be handling all of this if he hadn't been there for her to keep her stable. "Just thinking," she finally replied.  
  
"About?"  
  
It took Heather a while to get up the courage to answer. "This is kind of you going home," she said with a little shrug. "I mean, you live here and no reason for you to come all the way back to the States or anything and I know that big expansion is going to start soon and..." her words trailed off and she looked down. This should be the last thing on her mind. She should be focused on what was ahead. Unfortunately she was, just not on the ahead for the twins and Janna.  
  
"What if I wanted to come back?" Jon asked. "Holidays are always nicer with people you love." His finger pressed under her chin so she was looking at him. "With a person you love."  
  
She tried to smile, but it only made her look more miserable. "That's the thing," she said sadly. "I want you to come home with me. And we'd have a great time and not be separated for a minute. And it wouldn't be just incredible sex either. I'd have my best friend back like before. Except better than before because we both know what we really want now. I'd have someone that I can be completely honest with and who's not scared of my crazy family.  
  
Jon blinked. "And this is a bad thing exactly how?"  
  
"Are you going to give up your entire life to stay with me?" she asked, her tone far more harsh than she intended. Heather paused, not looking at him or else she would burst into tears. "I just mean," she continued in a much softer voice, "that we've still got an ocean between us when all is said and done. We're going to try and have a relationship with three thousand miles in between us all of the time. It's hard to even think about."  
  
She finally peeped back up at him; his obvious shock and hurt finally making tears spill over her eyelids. "Are you breaking up with me?" he asked incredulously.  
  
"God no!" Heather blurted, loud enough to make the guy in the next aisle look over at her. "I just mean...it's going to be hard, you know. That's what I was thinking about earlier. Just that it's going to be really hard on us."  
  
Jon put his arm around her and hugged her to him. Nice thing about first class was that there was room to cuddle in your seats. "It might not be as bad as you think," he ventured, contemplatively.  
  
"I know I'm going to miss you when we're apart," Heather sighed. "But I do love you. I know people say that's not enough, but it's a damn good start."  
  
Jon smiled. Yes, the next year was going to be very busy with the expansion getting ready to start. And he wouldn't have a lot of time to spend with Heather in the States. But the situation was far from hopeless. "Your parents didn't think they had a chance in the world," he reminded her. "But twenty years and four kids later, they managed to make it."  
  
Heather looked him in the eyes. "I can guarantee you didn't impregnate me last night."  
  
"I should hope not," he replied, remembering that it was Heather's mom getting pregnant that kind of forced their situation. "So, how soon you think you'd be able to?"  
  
Heather's jaw dropped as she jerked upright at the seriousness of his tone. Then he grinned at her and she realized he was teasing. She lightly punched his shoulder. "That was not funny!"  
  
He laughed. "It was to me." She was on the verge of pouting and if he kept looking at her, he was really going to start laughing and possibly not stop until she strangled him. Instead he pulled her close to him again.  
  
"I know it's going to be hard," he said, getting control over the laughter that wanted to bubble out. "The course of true love and all that, right? But I would rather have you in my life part time than not at all." Heather would have questioned the wry little smile gracing his lips had she seen it, but she was curled under his chin, grateful to have him for now and very glad to know that he was willing to face the hardships ahead for them to be able to be together.  
  
The flight was rather uneventful. Even sober, Heather wasn't the best flier. She had the tendency to turn green whenever a flight got rough. During summer when turbulence was at it's worst, she had been known to drive all the way from Boston to Seattle for summer breaks rather than dealing with a flight. Both her and Jon were grateful for the calm air as they flew over the ocean. Heather knew that her and Jon were seriously committed to this thing between them, but she really didn't want to test it by getting sick in his lap.  
  
As they exited the plane into the terminal, Antonio was waiting for them. His heart sped up when he recognized Jonathan getting off of the plane with the woman in the family photo. They both looked a bit tired and travel- worn. He supposed they would be after criss-crossing the ocean so many times in such a matter of days. Tired or not, both of them still seemed quite formidable. And they were his best and only link to where Janna was.  
  
"Antonio," Jon greeted, holding out his hand when they approached. Antonio shook it quickly. "This is Heather Raleigh. Heather, Antonio di LiCossa."  
  
Antonio had to suppress a shiver when she turned those icy blue eyes on him. There was absolutely nothing that reminded him of Janna in that hard stare. The Janna he knew was full of movement and passion whether it was in her work or the way she talked or even walked. There was always fire in those chocolate eyes of hers. This woman was solid ice. Antonio knew instinctively that everything she said or did in front of him would be very deliberate. If Janna were a tigress always prowling and moving in her hunt, then this one would be the creature that lay very still and quiet, pouncing her prey when it mistakenly felt safe. The only way he was going to get anything out of her was to get her off balance somehow. And those cold blue eyes told him very clearly that was not going to be an easy task.  
  
Heather shook his hand. "Good to meet you, though I wish it was under better circumstances. Your sister spoke of you so highly. I trust that she and your mother are well?"  
  
Most men would have been immediately offended had they gotten the threat behind the polite words, but an Italian in a powerful position could respect how subtly she made the statement. "They are quite well," he replied, his expression acknowledging the meaning behind her words but confident anyways that he still had the upper hand.  
  
"Heather, you want to check and see if you've got any messages?" Jon asked gently. He hadn't missed the tension between her and Antonio. A deaf mute that was blind couldn't have missed the tension between them. Heather was going to have to back down on this count. Antonio had them and he knew it. Heather's family, not to mention her career was going to be devastated if this leaked out. Antonio would regret it later when he learned what happened when you pissed off a bunch of X-series and injured one of their own, but in the meantime it just wouldn't be pretty. And there was no way he could be warned in advance about the reality of the danger he was in.  
  
Heather nodded and they stepped off to the side of the main walkway as she powered up her cell phone and let the messages load. She couldn't help but to wince at the number of voicemails. Seven from her parents. Three from Cole. One from Max. Two from Xander. Even one from Lon. God, she was so dead when she got home. Finally the last one was Cameron's number. She hit play and listened to it, both of the men she was with waiting eagerly for some news.  
  
Heather mentally cursed her younger siblings. Okay, it wasn't like they had much of a choice by now, but it would have been so helpful to have Mom and Dad now. This felt like an ambush waiting to happen. Mom or Dad would know for sure and they would know the best way to deal with something like this. It was what they were trained for. Heather could investigate and she knew how an arrest should be made, but this was a little over her head. Too late now, she supposed. But at least the twins were going to get some reinforcements if anything had gone wrong.  
  
"They're on their way to Athens to make the trade," she reported in a low voice. "Guy made contact, no problem, everything is set and ready to run." She glanced at her watch and made a quick time zone conversion. "If everything is on schedule, they should be meeting there in maybe half of an hour or so."  
  
Antonio yanked out his cell phone and dialed quickly. Whoever he called must have picked up on the first ring, because he almost immediately began barking orders in Italian. He hung up and looked at their questioning expressions. "My plane will be ready in ten minutes to take us there," he said firmly. He was not going to wait for a phone call to find out if and when Janna was safe.  
  
Heather didn't like how he was immediately trying to take over, but there wasn't much of a choice now. And having a private jet fueled and ready to go was a heck of a lot better option than trying to get a flight or getting a train for Greece. When she caught up with Janna, she was so going to explain that if you are going to be bad, you do not tell your victims your name, address and how to get a hold of the whole family. Heather would make her point most clearly. Probably with an ice pick.  
  
There wasn't much conversation until they boarded Antonio's plane. Nobody wanted to be overheard considering what they needed to discuss. You didn't start talking about stealing, smuggling and the Mafia in public. That tended to attract the wrong sort of attention and there wasn't the time to explain to security guards that it was all just a movie they saw or something like that.  
  
The plane wasn't huge, but it certainly was nice. There were ten seats in the front like on a normal plane, but then there was a curtain and behind it was a dining or conference area. The table was bolted to the floor and had a raised edge around it to keep things from sliding off. A wet bar was in there and Heather was willing to bet the small cove that was walled off was a kitchen / food prep area. A large bathroom including a shower was behind the conference area. Another room behind that was behind a real wall with a door. Heather didn't get the chance to peep back there, but she was willing to bet it was a sleeping area. The plane had all the amenities for anyone that liked to travel in comfort.  
  
After they took off and the pilot said it was okay to take off their seatbelts, the three of them went into the conference area. Antonio offered Heather and Jon a drink, disappointed when they both refused. Getting them drunk was not a good idea, but a drink or two would help him get the information he was going for out of them. He waited patiently as Heather checked another message on her phone.  
  
"Xander got some stuff for me on this Southwood guy," she said more to Jon than Antonio. This was why Heather loved her uncle. There was nothing that man couldn't do if he really wanted to. "Hopefully we won't need to use it, but it can't hurt to have it."  
  
Antonio blinked. "Your, ah, this Xander was able to find out information on Southwood?" he asked, impressed. His people had turned up absolutely nothing.  
  
"Xander is very well connected." She wasn't going to give him an iota more information than he really needed. He had also sounded a little funny on the phone. Heather hoped her mother hadn't "talked" to him and explained to him in a most forceful manner that she was not pleased with him helping her wayward children. She had a feeling that Christmas was really not going to be the happy joyous time that it usually was at home.  
  
"And you trust his information is correct?"  
  
"Implicitly."  
  
"I suppose you would," Antonio remarked casually. She didn't twitch. Obviously she learned how to play poker from some expert players. But Jonathan blinked. It wasn't much but it was a place to put the chisel. "One does tend to trust family." Neither of them twitched, but the temperature must have dropped ten degrees. He had taken a stab in the dark and it was working quite well. One more perhaps. "Please, don't be surprised. Janna told me everything."  
  
Antonio never knew how close to death he came at that moment. If Jon hadn't been holding Heather's hand so tightly she might have gone after Antonio. Yeah, so what if she had told Jon. He was in the middle of a rather critical situation and deserved to know the truth. Antonio had a great smile and a nice butt and that was worth putting the entire family in danger? Heather put her free hand on the table and leaned forward a bit. "What did she tell you?"  
  
Antonio wasn't expecting the chill that ran through him when those cold blue eyes narrowed. But this was what he had been looking for. They knew what had happened and why. They weren't telling. He was willing to push as hard as needed to know what was going on with Janna. "She told me everything," he repeated, leaning forward as well. A memory of Janna mentioning her aunt and uncle were ex-military. "Not every detail of course. There wasn't time for that. Do you still have relatives in the military or have they all left the service?"  
  
There was no mistaking the shock in her face this time or the fact that both of them turned paper white. Heather and Jon looked at each other, totally at a loss as to what to do. This is why I should have had Mom and Dad with me, Heather thought miserably. I can't just kill this guy. He can't be let loose knowing what he knows, but I can't just do him in either. How could he have gotten it out of her...oh crap, they were talking about Janna.  
  
"Heather," Jon said sharply. She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. She was still white, but he knew her far too well. The one thing that was most dangerous in the world was to back her in a corner. And that was what Antonio had just done. "Don't," Jon said urgently, in a low voice. "You're not like them. They were raised to be what they were. You weren't. I don't care what your instincts are saying. You can't be like that for any reason."  
  
"I know," she said softly, his words taking the edge off of her anger somewhat. She looked back at Antonio, knowing that she could do so and not kill him at that moment. "You slept with her didn't you?" she accused.  
  
Antonio flushed, not expecting her to know such an intimate detail. Heather smirked. "I get it now," she said nastily. "I don't know how but you realized she was one of those girls that can't tell the difference between that whole sex and love thing. What, did she admit that she doesn't do that one-night stand thing, ever? You made her think something she had no business thinking and she made a serious mistake and told you about the whole screwed up family."  
  
Antonio knew that he needed to be listening to her. Obviously this was of great importance to her and Jonathan. It didn't seem like it was fulfilling his specific goal, but whatever. The important thing was that Janna had never slept with a man she didn't care about. Yes, their moment could have been chalked up to just intense emotions and the situation, but still, one could also make a case that there was something there between them. He had to admit that he wondered if Janna was capable of faking such...such passion, but her cousin's remarks seemed to tell a different story.  
  
But then Heather leaned forward and his full attention was captured. Menace flowed off her like cold off of an iceberg. "Forget what she told you," Heather almost growled. "You think you know? Trust me, you have no idea what you're dealing with when it comes to my kind. They are relentless. They fear nothing and they can't be stopped."  
  
Antonio leaned forward as well, refusing to be intimidated. Well, refusing to show it at least. There was something about this young woman that was simply frightening in a way. "I believe," he said slowly, "that the proper English phrase is 'bring it on'."  
  
"Both of you calm down," Jon ordered. Anyone else in the world would have risked getting hurt at that moment, but he was willing to chance that Heather wouldn't touch him. "Heather, keep in mind that Antonio isn't out to sell the twins or your cousin. He was the one they victimized, remember?"  
  
"Yeah, and I wonder how Southwood found Janna?" Heather snapped, but she did sit back in her chair. She glared at Antonio who glared right back at her. "You made a big deal over finding that stupid necklace. Such a deal, all he had to do was watch you and you led him right to her. That's just a little too coincidental for me."  
  
"I know you did not just accuse me with collaborating with that man," Antonio spit out.  
  
"Heather, calm down," Jon said louder this time. She glared at him, but he could deal with it. Better it get to him then she get carried away and lose control of herself. "Southwood managed to get his hands on Janna. He's got to be tricky. And he managed to fool two telepaths. That can't be easy. He didn't need collaboration and I'm willing to bet he's the type that won't want to because he doesn't like to split the profits. Antonio was looking for Janna, already trying to help her when he called. I know your upset over Janna's big mouth, but deal with her, not him."  
  
"My little brother and sister are out there," she said in a shaky voice, "and they don't know what they are walking into." It was said with such painful sincerity, that even Antonio softened a little. If something happened to Luisa, he would not handle it well. "It doesn't make sense to go through all of this trouble for a statue. That necklace has got to be worth a lot more. So what else do those two have that's worth everything?"  
  
"The point is we won't know until we get there," Jon reminded her.  
  
"The point is that they were supposed to get caught!" Heather yelled, jumping out of her seat. "Southwood planned that. That's why the plane was sabotaged. They were supposed to get caught and while they were nice and incarcerated, he could pay someone off and have them delivered, nice and neat." She looked at Antonio furiously. "And when they shocked the hell out of him by escaping, you led them right to live bait."  
  
She sat down heavily. "As soon as we land, I'm calling Mom and Dad."  
  
"Heather..." Jon said, trying to protest so she would think this out and not panic like she was doing. It might not be as bad as she thought.  
  
"I'm way over my head now," Heather interrupted. Jon realized that the last time he had seen that particular expression on her face they were being chased around the mountains of Colorado. "This was supposed to just be the twins handling the problem they made. They broke it, they needed to fix it. But they don't know what the problem is and I just sent off to Southwood the billion-dollar genetic code that he's been dying to get his hands on. When it happened to me, I had Uncle Cole. They don't have anyone and they will protect Janna."  
  
They were both so intent on each other, neither of them noticed the sudden confusion on Antonio's face. A what kind of genetic code?  
  
"He might not know," Jon repeated. "And even if he did, unless he's seen them in action, he won't have any idea what a Manticoreling can do."  
  
"If he knows what he's looking for," Heather countered, "then he'll have an idea of what they can do. Telepathy only goes so far. I don't think they know how to use it like Cole can. If they know what they were into...and I'm not the backup they need. I'm not the genetically engineered killing machine that's needed. I'm just their kid. Just because I have the ability doesn't mean I have the training. They do."  
  
The plane suddenly started to shake as it hit some turbulence, dropping slightly and trembling. Heather instantly turned a lovely shade of green. She grabbed the edge of the table, her siblings forgotten for the moment. The plane shuddered again and there was the sensation like when a high- speed elevator first starts to go down. It was a good thing she didn't have to hold back on speed in front of Antonio. She would never have made it to the bathroom in time.  
  
Jon couldn't help the smile, but he was able at least to bite back a laugh. It never failed to amaze him how she could be so tough and strong but in an airplane chances of her vomiting were much higher than her making it through the flight. Jhondie and Justin refused to take her anywhere. They said they couldn't afford the cleaning bills in their plane. He glanced at Antonio to make a comment about Heather not being able to fly, but the words died before they could come out. Jon knew that expression. He knew it rather well. It was the face of someone that had just seen things that they knew could not be happening. Jon's smile wilted as he suddenly put things together.  
  
"You bluffed her," he whispered. Antonio looked at him, still too stunned to speak. No human being could move that fast. It was impossible. This couldn't be happening. "Oh my God," Jon muttered a little louder. "You really bluffed her."  
  
He slid next to Antonio, grabbing his upper arm, his gaze as intense as his voice. "Janna didn't tell you any of this, did she?" he asked urgently.  
  
"How in God's name did she do that?" Antonio asked, just as urgently. "Genetically engineered...is she insane? Those things...they do not...they can not exist."  
  
"And neither can petite girls that can kick the crap out of men the size of Marco and then jump out a third story window and take off running when she hits the ground," Jon retorted, hoping Heather would stay in the bathroom long enough for him to be able to explain. Or at least keep Antonio from letting on that he didn't know. If Heather knew he had played her, Antonio was going to learn what skydiving without a parachute was like.  
  
Antonio didn't speak for a moment while he tried to assimilate what he was being told. At first he thought it was an act. It had to be an act. They were acting so stunned, to the point where he believed it, and then they began speaking madness. Such things did not exist. They should not exist. Oh, but it made more sense. The statue meant more to the family because of its history rather than it's value. Why kidnap Janna over it? But genetic engineering? Both the cousin and Janna had subdued Marco. And saying there were wires was all well and good, but there would have been some trace left behind. And then when Heather ran. One moment she was standing there and the next she was gone as though she had teleported. Only the slamming of the door had given away that Heather had run through it.  
  
"How is this possible?" Antonio asked. "Janna is one of them as well?"  
  
"Half," Jon answered. "Her father's normal. Her mother...the American army was trying to make super-soldiers. They used transgenic DNA and made them. Some escaped when they were kids and others stayed and were what they were supposed to be. Janna's mother is one that escaped. Both of Heather's parents are though, that's why she can move like she can."  
  
The plane lurched again and they heard more retching coming from the bathroom. Jon knew he should feel bad for doing so, but he thanked the heavens for a few extra moments. "No wonder Janna was able to take down Marco," Antonio muttered. But when she ran from him, why didn't she get away?  
  
"Janna's not super-strong," Jon corrected. "She just has a real attitude problem when you get her pissed."  
  
Antonio smirked. He didn't have to be told that. "Do you really think these men know what she is?" he asked.  
  
Jon shrugged. "I don't know. Heather...it's going to be the first thing she thinks. When she was fifteen a group tried to kidnap and sell her to someone wanting biosynthetic technology. If it weren't for one of her uncles being close by, they probably would have gotten her. I think that's the thing that scares her most in the world now though. Being kidnapped and sold to some butcher."  
  
His eyes met Antonio's, dead serious now. "Listen, I'm not trying to threaten you or scare you or anything like that. I want you to know what you're dealing with. They are very, very protective of their own. The only reason I wasn't seen as a threat was because I got involved accidentally when Heather was almost kidnapped and I helped to save her life then. You're a wildcard. And it won't matter how well connected you are or what the consequences are. If they think that you're going to be a danger to one of their own, nothing will stop one of them from getting to you."  
  
The toilet flushed and Jon slid away from Antonio. A very pale Heather came out and sat back down next to him. She wished she could curl up against him until they could get out of this bouncing Purgatory and back onto solid ground, but she didn't want to look that pathetic in front of Antonio. He was watching her too thoughtfully for her to feel relaxed right then.  
  
"Heather," Antonio said smoothly, "I believe that you do not fully understand my intentions. The last time that Janna and I spoke, she expressed a great deal of regret over the theft and said that she would do whatever she could to get the necklace back. I believed her. The purpose of a prison is to make a person regret what they have done, and since she already feels that way, I see no point in sending her off to such a place."  
  
"None of them can go to jail," Heather said shakily. "It's not safe."  
  
"And besides," Jon added, "their parents know. If you'd ever met them, you'd understand what that means. I'm willing to bet they're going to wish they were safe in a prison where their parents couldn't get to them."  
  
Antonio smiled at that. "I can believe that. When I was very small, I was caught stealing a candy bar from a store. After my mother got through with me, I wished that the police had been there to protect me from her."  
  
Heather smiled wanly. "Okay," she said. "Honestly, I'm too nauseous to be a bitch right now. Are we all on the same side?"  
  
Antonio nodded. "If that side is getting them all back safe and sound then I am with you."  
  
Jon took her hand. "They're going to be fine," he reassured her. "When have those three not landed on their feet? 


	32. Step In Step Out

For a group that had this much cat DNA, how the hell did we manage to keep from landing on our feet this time, Cameron wondered as they separated him from his cousin and twin. Had he really lost contact with Liz he wouldn't have allowed it without a struggle but as it was, she reassured him, asking him to just play cool and all would be well. They were going to feel safer this way and when they were more at ease, it would be easier to strike.  
  
Liz was close enough that he could still talk to her but it was more tiring with a distance. They were going to have to save as much strength as possible. Mental reserves were going to have to be spent more on restraint anyways because that was the only way he was going to keep from strangling the little redhead he was now sharing a room with. Emilie. The one that Janna was so worried about. Cameron was worried about her too, but for much different reasons. He was more or less sure that he was going to kill her or at least make Southwood promise to do it.  
  
He had been shoved into the room, the door slamming behind him. Only his sister's constant communication detailing exactly where they were being directed kept him from freaking out. Not that it would have helped, but the point was that it was something to do. He had barely taken note of the girl sitting on the cot.  
  
"Don't tell me you're the one that was supposed to be rescuing Jaqui," she said with a rather charming Irish lilt to her voice. "And if you were, I think you might have needed some lessons on how to do the job properly."  
  
She sounded amused. Vaguely Cameron picked up on the fact that she used amusement to cover the fact she was scared, but he really didn't care. "Oh, shut up," he growled, forgetting that he was supposed to be German. Like it really mattered now.  
  
"I heard a bit of shooting out there," Emilie said, sounding a little unsure of herself. "Jaqui didn't get herself hurt did she?"  
  
"She's fine," Cameron said absently, looking around the room. There had to be a way out of this place. There was always a way out of all places. There was no perfect prison. If they had learned one thing listening to their parents and aunts and uncles, it was that. Always a way out. Despite the camera that they had tried to hide up in the corner and knowing that it was being watched. Good job on the camera hide, but he wasn't the usual prisoner, now was he?  
  
"If she was fine then she wouldn't still be here," Emilie observed brightly. "Got a the rescue thing a bit bollixed did we?"  
  
Cameron finally spared a moment to glare at her. She was nervous about who he really was, scared he was really working for Southwood and Jaqui was really dead and he was there to play yet another one of Southwood's mental games. Fine. She was scared. Blah blah. She was also annoying the hell out of him. And why wasn't Liz talking to him anymore? That was what he was really worried about.  
  
(stop worrying...we're fine for now)  
  
(liz...how far are you...can you get out)  
  
(not right now...if there's a problem then i'll let you know...and the chick you're with can explain the deal with the hieroglyphs and a map)  
  
And then she was gone. He wasn't going to panic. That was not allowed. But he had always done better alone than she did. He was more worried about what his twin was feeling than what he was going to do. He took a breath and started to think things out. It was almost like being on an archeological dig. You just had to sift through things one layer of sand at a time until you found what you were looking for. It was time for patience. He could do that. But he knew Liz and patience didn't go well together. When she finally decided that she was bored, all hell was going to break loose and he needed to be there when it did.  
  
Emilie was wondering more what was up with this guy. Twice he had stopped in his observations of the room and his head was cocked ever so slightly. He was listening, she decided. To someone that made a career out of language, you knew what it looked like when you heard someone speak. He was listening to someone. That worried her a bit more because it looked like Jaqui's big trump card was merrily listening to the little voices in his head and she was locked in a room with him. Maybe he was one of Southwood's little minions sent in to frighten her into being more submissive. That didn't seem right though. He was a fine-looking chap though. Maybe he had been sent in to seduce her into submissiveness and was just too busy trying to remember what his cereal had told him to do this morning.  
  
Cameron focused on the girl in the room. He knew from Liz that the hieroglyphs on the statue were the important thing that Southwood had really wanted. But a map? What map? They should never have taken this assignment. They'd be in New York right now if they hadn't. Doing a little ice-skating with Tanya. She was so cute on skates. Hitting up some of the guys he knew at the museums and seeing who was going on a dig next season and if he could come along. Most of them were very generous even though he didn't have a formal education. They could see his experience and the donation checks made everything else not as important. The family wouldn't be pissed at them and he wouldn't be in mortal terror of what his parents were going to do when this was all over. Maybe Southwood killing them was the better alternative.  
  
"Jaqui said there was a map or something," Cameron finally said to Emilie. "The statue was destroyed and...and the third member of our party is the only one that knows what they are." Emilie's eyes widened. "So what's the deal with the map?"  
  
"I've only seen it once," she replied cautiously. He was talking about saner stuff now. This was good. Maybe the voices had gone on holiday. "Same story you've seen in a thousand movies. Young Spanish nobleman goes off to seek his fortune but never returns. Legend says that he died or whatnot before getting his treasure home and it's all sitting there in some hidden location waiting to be discovered."  
  
Cameron blinked. "You're not talking about the legend of Al-Naron are you?"  
  
Emilie looked a little surprised. The general tale might be a staple in books and movies, but he knew the exact thing she was talking about. "You've heard it before?"  
  
"Yeah," Cameron said a little excitedly. Okay, this was irrelevant to the situation, but it was really cool. "Two seasons ago I was out and Dr. Nah..." his words trailed off as he realized how much he was about to give away.  
  
Emilie rolled her eyes. "I already know who you are. So you're going to have to decide later what to do with me. In the meantime, keep talking. With the exception of Jaqui, the only conversation I've had in weeks has been some hairless ape pointing and grunting something that is supposed to be an order to go here or do that."  
  
Her smile was way too charming. He knew better. But she was actually interested in stuff that he loved. As much as he loved his twin, if it wasn't a special that they had seen on The Discovery Channel, then she would get this glazed over look when he started to talk about historical places and events. Mom was cool for discussing military history, but there was a lot more than just battles that had been won and lost over the ages. Cameron debated for a second and then just gave in. What the hell.  
  
He sat down beside her. "I was with Dr. Naharazzi two seasons ago working on his dig of that temple outside of Ja'hal."  
  
Emilie practically bounced on the cot. "The one that was constructed to end the great famine?" Cameron grinned and nodded. She crossed her arms and pretended to pout. "That is not fair. I spent a month helping him translate the documents that pointed him in the right direction and couldn't go. And you were actually there when they were excavating!"  
  
Cameron snickered. "It's amazing how friendly he gets when you make a sizable donation to his research." She laughed. Funding was the bane of all archeologists. People thought it was like the movies with a bullwhip and a handsome professor, but so much time was spent trying to procure research grants. "And why weren't you allowed to go if you had worked on it?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "And let the linguist out of the library? Are you mad?" Cameron was easily able to pick out of her mind more about her and her skills. Whoa. She was without a doubt the best there was and he knew a dozen different people that would have given their hind teeth to have her do their translations for them.  
  
"So," he continued, picking up the story from where he had left off. "We were doing the excavations and Dr. Naharazzi is full of those old legends and myths and tales. He loves to talk about treasure hunters. I think it was because there were several grad students there and he was warning them that this was real archeology, not what the movies say. Indiana Jones died nine years ago and Lara Croft wouldn't be able to fit herself into most of the passages we're going to see, that kind of thing." Emilie was smiling, remembering the doctor's many impassioned speeches about how Hollywood had caused so many problems for real scientists.  
  
"And we got to talking one night about legends in this area and he told us how supposedly not too far away were some hidden caves that housed a huge treasure. There was a poor Spanish nobleman that was in love with a beautiful woman but he was too poor to marry so he left to go east and get rich and come back. He never made it back to Europe but according to a servant of his, he had made it to Egypt with a fortune. He didn't know where his master was, but he had a map that showed where the master had put the fortune while waiting for something very important that was to be delivered. The master gave the map to the servant along with a letter to his lady and sent him on. But the master never showed up and the map disappeared."  
  
"It did disappear," Emilie replied. "And I don't know how but our host got his hands on it. He seems to know where the cave entrances are and he's determined to find it." She looked down for a moment, trouble crossing her features. "And he's been bloody ruthless on doing everything to get it. You three threw him for a loop and he's not the forgiving sort."  
  
Cameron nodded. "I figured as much. But I'll have to worry about that one thing at a time. Right now...the map you saw, it looked authentic?"  
  
She nodded. "Not many people in the world can write in medieval languages and trust me, they don't sound a thing like they do today. It's either the best forgery I've ever seen or the genuine article."  
  
"I guess we have to wait for Southwood's next move then," Cameron said. And somewhere down the line the statue had been made with the key to deciphering the map on it and Cameron was willing to bet some di LiCossa ancestor thought it would be just right for that hall and bought it. They were probably turning in their grave right now. "You think he really found the caves? Lot of people have looked before and come up with nothing."  
  
She shrugged. "He's damn certain. 'Course he's half buggered as well."  
  
The snort of laughter jumped out of Cam before he could stop himself. She laughed as well and then looked at him almost shyly. "You know," she teased, "I'm not exactly accustomed to sharing a bed with a man when I don't know his name."  
  
Cameron looked down and finally realized that they were sitting on a cot. He laughed again. Oh God, this was not the right thing to do. "Cameron," he said with a little shrug. He had always thought that people that were open to him mentally would be easy to shrug off. They had been in the past. You read them, got what you wanted and then walked. Of course he hadn't got what he wanted from her. She was open yes, but there were a hell of a lot of layers. He'd have to figure out what he wanted from her before he was able to get something from her.  
  
Emilie regarded him suspiciously for a second. A smile touched the edges of her mouth. "That really is your name."  
  
Cameron shrugged. "I'd say you could ask my mother, but lately to her my name has been Goddamnit Cam, so I guess you'll just have to wait until you meet my sister for confirmation."  
  
Emilie raised her eyebrows. "You're admitting that your sister is involved? I know you're related to Jaqui somewhere down the line and she refused to admit to it."  
  
"We're twins and trust me, it's really hard to deny when you see us together."  
  
Made sense to Emilie. "I thought my family was a wee bit on the odd side."  
  
"You don't know the half of it." Enough with the family talk. Time to get things interesting again. "So what did you find that led to the temple being discovered?" Cam asked. "I know they had some evidences of a volcano blowing a thousand miles away and it causing famine in Egypt, but there wasn't anything to make the direct connection and..."  
  
"If people would just start reading what the women have to say then a lot more unsolved history would be solved," Emilie said, her tone saying this was one of her favorite pet peeves. "If she wasn't a ruler or high powered, then she had to be a nobody and not worthy of attention, but they wrote a lot about what their husbands were doing and more importantly where they were doing it. Some did everything but practically draw the map and give street directions."  
  
Cameron laughed. "I wouldn't have thought about reading a diary."  
  
"That's because you're a twit." Emilie teased. "It's not the first time. Like once I was buried in this library in Moscow and..."  
  
Cameron lost track of the amount of time he spent in that little room with Emilie. The more time the better he thought. Heather was on her way and chances were that the parents were right there with her. He would love to see Southwood try to deal with Mom and Dad when they were in a mood. And Aunt Max was going to be right there in the mix. A telekinetic, two telepathic X-7's plus a couple of really irritated X-6's and an X-5 was probably going to be more Operation Overkill than a rescue. He was just going to have to keep Emilie down low. As long as she didn't see anything, then there was no need to do anything to her. She'd be grateful for the rescue. Grateful enough to keep quiet. Maybe she was actually a witch. Janna had wanted to keep her safe and now he was feeling like he didn't want anything to happen to her either.  
  
"So then," Cameron was saying to a giggling Emilie, "There we were with half of the Egyptian Army surrounding us and the project leader faints dead away in the sand. We've got one old guy that speaks Arabic and he's refusing to say a word until he gets paid for the day and none of us have any money because it's all still back at the camp."  
  
(get out now)  
  
(huh?)  
  
Oh no, not again, Emilie thought when Cameron broke off his story, that curious listening gesture back. She was starting to think that maybe she had been wrong earlier. She had been seeing more into things than was really there. He had just had an ache in his neck that he had been stretching. Since then he had admitted to doing some crazy things, all in the name of archeology, but nothing that she wouldn't have done if given half a chance. He'd been charming and intelligent and well able to hold his end of a conversation. Now he was listening again and she couldn't hear a thing.  
  
(cam, get the hell out of there right now)  
  
Cameron could feel his heart rate accelerate at the intensity of his sister's mind tone.  
  
(like i'm leaving you behind)  
  
(get out or janna's dead...they don't need two hostages to keep me cooperating and they have my twin)  
  
(liz!)  
  
(cameron please! follow us, i don't care, but get out now! )  
  
(ten minutes?)  
  
(think so...five would be better)  
  
(see you on the other side)  
  
The communication was broken and Cameron glanced around the small room, his senses on full alert. It took a matter of seconds to reach into the minds of the guards outside the door. There were only two of them and they were busy watching the camera screen making bets on when the two in there were going to start fooling around. They were pissed because there was no sound. No sound? A wire was broken but they hadn't been able to fix it yet. Didn't matter because they didn't care what he was saying to get her naked, but....  
  
Cameron shook his head slightly to clear those thoughts. Perv. Why was Emilie staring at him like that? Oh hell. Liz warned him that when he got into a mental conversation, he had the tendency to let the rest of the world go. She was an expert at double-talking. He didn't do it enough to keep it from being obvious.  
  
"Emilie..." he started to try to speak. He had no idea what he was going to say, but he had to say something.  
  
"It's quite all right," she said quickly. "I get it now. You're a bleeding loony."  
  
"Damn it Molly," he snapped, stopping short, both of them looking startled. But she was about to panic and that wouldn't look good to the camera. Cameron grabbed her quickly, yanking her close to him, his face turned towards her as he forced her head to turn into him. On the camera he knew it would look like the guys outside had started to get their wish."  
  
"We're on camera," he hissed in her ear. "Don't you dare try and fight me."  
  
There was something in his tone that made Emilie relax her fingers and stop digging her nails into his skin. "Why did you call me Molly?" she hissed back.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Like hell you don't. Only one person has ever called me Molly and I want to know why you called me that name, damn you."  
  
Christ. "Because you were nervous and trying to be brave or something, I don't know, and there's some association with that and Molly, and if you'd think clearer, then I'd know for certain." That was either going to get her attention or get some fighting going again. He didn't want to hurt her. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but the girl had some sharp nails and he was pretty sure she had drawn blood already.  
  
She stiffened. "Stop acting like you got that out of my mind." So what if she was thinking that when he said that to her. The bravest person she had ever known in her life was her mother. Her mother had called her Molly from infancy and whenever she wanted to be brave, she thought of her mother and how to her mother she had always been the adventurous and fearless Molly McC. That had gotten her through a lot of tough nights since she'd been kidnapped.  
  
"The how do I know that your mother wanted to name you Molly but your father said that you'd end up a actress or a hooker with the name Molly McCormick? Both were equally bad to him so they named you after...one of their mothers." He had to calm her down. Why in hell was he telling her the truth?  
  
"My father's," she whispered back fiercely. "And all that tells me is that you've done a bloody lot of research. All interested in history and know my background. I was really thinking you weren't one of his men, you bastard."  
  
"Calm down and think of something," Cameron said. Her mind was such a jumble that this wasn't going to be easy. "Just calm down and think about a object or something very clearly. Favorite place or food or something else very personal to you."  
  
She'd show him! She closed her eyes, not thinking about her favorite anything. Prove it now. Cameron moved slightly as if he was kissing her neck and ear now. "Green wall," he murmured. She stiffened a little, her eyes popping open. "Almost the exact same color as your eyes." He'd noticed her eyes? She could feel him smile against her ear, his breath tickling her slightly. "Beautiful eyes. Kind of hard to not notice them. But it's not the wall you're thinking about anyways. That's just where it hung at...your aunt's home. It's the painting you liked. It was just steps going up in some garden...hey, was it a Thomas Kinkade? Looks like his work."  
  
He pulled back slightly so that he could see her stunned face. "Oh my God, you really did...read my mind." She looked a little uncomfortable. "Stop it. But you really were listening to someone when you came in here and then just a minute ago."  
  
He smiled. "I already did stop. But I have to go."  
  
Her expression became questioning. "With you, it's images, feeling, some thoughts. With my twin, it's full two-way communication. They only need one hostage to keep her cooperating. I'm a lot better than our cousin. I go, she lives."  
  
"Think you could, ah, take me with you?"  
  
He wanted to say yes. And the worst part was that he could. "I take you then they aren't valuable anymore. Molly...sorry, Emilie, I want to..."  
  
"I understand." His eyes met hers and he realized that she really did. "Now attack me."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm the prize. We're on camera. If they can't hit me then they won't let you hurt me either. Might make me too upset to be able to read right proper if I'm sobbing and wailing and eyes are swollen shut and the like."  
  
Cameron was horrified. "I'm not going to hit you."  
  
"I think you can fake it. You hit me hard and I'm going to be right pissed for a long time to come."  
  
He could pick the lock, but that could get too much attention. Oh God, this was the best way. And he could tell from the guards' thoughts how valuable Emilie was. She was very right that they would come to her defense. He felt ill. "I'm going to grab you, push me away and slap me hard."  
  
"Sounds like half my first dates in college." How could she be funny at a time like this? He couldn't keep her. He wanted to. But he had to leave her. This sucked. He let his mind go out to the guards and keep track of them. They were excitedly waiting for things to progress and were mentally cheering when he pulled her a little closer, his hand plunging down the front of her shirt, capturing her full breast in his hand.  
  
Emilie gasped at the contact and she had to admit that if there was just a little more time and they weren't on camera, she might have let herself have a few seconds to enjoy his touch. She started to squirm violently, shoving him backwards roughly. Her blouse tore and she hauled off and slapped him.  
  
Cameron knew what was coming, but he wasn't expecting it when Emilie started screaming at him at the top of her lungs, cursing him in at least three different languages. Now the guards outside were concerned. He had to do this. Had to. Cameron jumped up, yelling back at her and calling her a no-good tease, before hauling off and slapping her, but barely hard enough to make her face red and not enough for a bruise. Emilie played it well, acting as though it was hard enough to knock her to the floor.  
  
Cameron pounced on her. Her green eyes widened. This wasn't part of the plan. Then she realized that he was listening again and he wasn't on top of her really. He was in more of a springing position. The doors flew open and the two guards came in, shouting and cursing, ready to beat Cameron into a bloody pulp.  
  
Emilie had seen boys getting into scraps before in a schoolyard. She had seen movies where the hero was a martial arts expert. But she had never seen anything like this before. Cameron suddenly was off of her, literally back flipping over the two men as she rolled over to get in a corner and out of the way. Neither of the guards had a chance as he unleashed every skill, both mentally and physically on them. They couldn't land a punch and he moved around them and suddenly in a couple of kicks the first one was unconscious. A punch later and the other one was in a heap as well.  
  
Cameron took a step towards the door and then suddenly changed direction and was in front of where Emilie was crouched. On impulse he leaned over, his lips brushing against hers. "You won't see me," he whispered urgently. "But I'm going to be half a step behind, I promise. I'm not letting any of you get out of my sight." And then he was gone, flying down a corridor, his inhuman speed making pursuit impossible. He hit a side window and dove through it, swan diving into the waters below.  
  
It might be possible to have a day that could suck worse, he supposed. But as he had no intentions of say, getting the genitals pierced the same day as having a rectal exam, he couldn't think of much else that would make this worse. 


	33. The Other Half

Janna knew her cousin far to well to be fooled. They had been tossed into a small room, separated from Cameron. Liz didn't seem worried in the slightest. There was a desk and a chair in the room and Janna thought that this wasn't a place they had ever intended on holding hostages. They were trying to figure out what they were going to do with the three or four of them now. Liz had plopped into the chair, propping her feet up and leaning back in an attitude of complete relaxation. Janna knew better.  
  
After the door had first slammed shut and Liz sat down, her lips had twitched a few times. She was talking to Cameron. Reassuring him, probably to keep him from bashing out of wherever he was and coming after them. Liz could double talk, but if she weren't talking to someone out loud, then sometimes she would accidentally mouth the words she was speaking to her brother mentally. Even when that stopped, Janna knew Liz wasn't relaxed. She needed her body to be relaxed so that her mind would have greater range. It was tiring to do what she was doing and Liz didn't know how long or how much she was going to have to keep this going.  
  
Liz opened her eyes after a few minutes. She glanced at her cousin and blinked once, long and slow. Janna relaxed a little. They had a whole system of non-verbal communications. The Morse code blinks could get a little tiring after a while, but it worked well. And there was the fact that either of the twins could read her mind when she wanted them too, so really it was a matter of them being able to talk to her. The long slow blink was shorthand for "everything is fine for now". It still didn't give Janna the warm fuzzies since they were hostages, but they would have to deal. And Janna was still worried over what happened to Antonio. Nobody had mentioned him at all. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe they didn't want to mention killing an Italian guy in her apartment. Liz might be able to find out, but then again, chances of Liz killing her instead if she knew what had happened between Janna and Antonio was much higher than Liz just letting it go and finding out.  
  
Bentley came in a minute later, slapping a pen and piece of paper in front of Liz. "Draw the first symbol," he growled. In his anger, his mind was far too open. They knew what the first symbol was and if Liz didn't get it right, then she was lying and they were all dead. Liz almost sighed. As soon as these guys relaxed just a little, then she was grabbing Janna and they were so out of there. Been kidnapped fifteen minutes and it was already getting boring.  
  
She picked up the pen and fluidly began drawing the symbol out, remembering to add the little scratchy mark in the upper part of the curved line. The artistry left a lot to be desired. Janna would have fainted if she saw the stick figure, but Liz never claimed to be an artist. She could sketch an engine, but that was out of practice more than talent. She held up the paper with a smug smile. "Here's the first two symbols," she smirked. "Your boss wants to see another one, I see my brother. Got it?"  
  
Bentley snatched the paper from her and left the room, instructing the guards that they were not to go in there for any reason. Liz smirked. He had seen them in action earlier and was afraid. He wanted to just kill them and run. Southwood was in a far worse predicament. If he didn't get this money, then he was a dead man himself. This little rift was very exploitable. It had to be at least. Any break in the ranks could be used. Little gem of wisdom from mom.  
  
"Why are you pushing them?" Janna whispered when he was gone.  
  
Liz thought for a second. "I think...if they're mad they're going to make their moves too fast. And that's what we're going to need. They need to be reacting to us, and the wrench in their plans that we've caused. They start acting and we're screwed."  
  
"And this isn't being screwed?"  
  
Liz shrugged and gave her cousin a tight-lipped smile. She leaned forward. "The parents know," she whispered. Janna went white. "Heather found out. I'll fill you in later, but do you really think they're going to let someone else kill us when they want that pleasure?"  
  
"Mine know too?"  
  
Liz had to bite back a laugh. "You're lucky. You might not get locked in a closet for the next twenty years. I think Max was a little jealous she never fenced anything for as much as we get." Janna smiled. Dad was going to kill her, but Mom had very little room to talk. She'd probably critique the work.  
  
Liz knew that they just needed time. Heather wasn't going to be far behind and chances were that she had the parents with her. Maybe some aunts and uncles and a bored cousin or two to boot. As terrified as she was of her parents and what they were going to do to her, at least they might, if they were very, very lucky, be tempered with some small grain of love. Or they would get out a lot of the violence on Southwood and his men and call it good. That was the biggest hope. If not, then her and Cam were toast extraordinaire.  
  
Time passed slowly. The girls didn't dare converse much for fear of being overheard. Liz occasionally let her mind sweep out, but not much was going on. There was still that reassuring place deep in her mind that let her know Cam was fine. They didn't always need to be in direct communication. No matter how far apart they were, they always knew when the other was in distress. Cam was doing fine. More fine than he should, actually. Odd. She would have jumped and asked, but that would have been a waste of strength.  
  
And then one of Liz's slow mental trawls hooked a big one. Janna noticed her cousin's body stiffen, her eyes flying open. Liz leaned forward, oblivious to the real world, eyes narrowed into slits, a ferocious snarl twisting her mouth. For a moment, she looked more like her mother than even Heather did. "Oh hell, no" she growled.  
  
"What?" Janna whispered urgently.  
  
"Hold on." Liz leaned back in the seat, her eyes closing again as she relayed the distress message to her brother. Wait. Something was really up with him. It kind of resembled what had been bothering Janna earlier. Who cared? This was an emergency.  
  
Communication broke off and Liz sat back up. Janna was watching her expectantly. "They decided they only need one hostage for me to cooperate." Janna paled. "I think I pissed Bentley off more than I intended."  
  
"I am so kicking your ass later."  
  
"Save it. Cam's going to ditch the place in a few."  
  
The next few minutes took hours, days to pass. Civilizations rose and fell. Mountains rose from the sea in a flood of lava and crumbled into dust. Stars were born and winked out before the door was thrust open. Liz wasn't completely on her feet, but Janna knew the stance. She was about to spring and make someone really, really wish they had never been born. Instead of a gun-toting minion, a young woman was roughly shoved into the room and the door slammed again.  
  
Liz thought she looked vaguely familiar. She was a couple of years older than Liz, rather pretty girl actually. Her blouse was torn and she was crying. The minute the door slammed shut, the waterworks seized and she looked rather pleased with herself.  
  
"Emilie!" Janna burst out.  
  
Emilie perked up with a wicked smile. "I knew you weren't French." Janna winced. She had just blurted out the word without thinking.  
  
"Well...never mind that," Janna stumbled, "what happened to you?" Emilie was smirking too much for Southwood to have gone after her. In the seconds of Janna's concern, she was very much open and Liz was able to pick out of her mind who Emilie was and that she was the person Janna had been worried about when they had come in to make the trade for Janna.  
  
Emilie looked over at Liz curiously. Cameron had said there would be no mistaking his sister and he had been quite right. She knew a couple of transsexuals that had facial feminization done. They had a surgeon go in and reconstruct their faces to make them look more feminine and delicate. Cameron wouldn't ever have to wonder what he would look like if he had that done. All he would have to do was look at his twin.  
  
"Bit of a disagreement with my roommate," Emilie answered. She wondered if Liz was as adept at mind reading as her brother. "He thought he could take a few liberties too many. Had to explain the error of his ways." That should satisfy anyone listening. Mentally, she "yelled" that she worked out a plan with Cameron and he got out and she thought he made it out and Southwood was furious that he lost his best hold over Liz.  
  
Liz flinched slightly at the volume. It was like someone was yelling in her ear. And then it hit her. Emilie had no doubt that she would be able to hear the mental call. "You know his real name and ...this?" she whispered. Emilie nodded brightly. Liz groaned. "I am going to hurt him," she muttered and then glanced over at her cousin. "At least you know better than to tell strangers your real name and you were there a hell of a lot longer."  
  
Liz didn't have time to question that really weird look that flashed across Janna's face for a second. Bentley stormed back into the room. "Get up," he barked. Several men with guns were right behind him, ready to fill the room with lead if any of them breathed wrong. "We're leaving right now," he added. He eyed Liz coldly. "Looks like your brother decided to get stupid and try and make a run for it. My condolences on your loss, but I don't think he suffered too much. At least not until the salt hit the open wounds. That probably hurt, but he's in a much better place now, right."  
  
He smirked at the look of horror on all three women's faces. "Anyone else wants to join him, then try something funny. Now move."  
  
(cam?)  
  
(CAMERON?)  
  
Distant. Scratchy. Like a bad connection on a cell phone.  
  
(he's right...salt does hurt where i cut the crap out of my finger...no stress...still here)  
  
As the goons hustled them out of the room, they didn't notice the ghost of a wink Liz dropped Janna and Emilie. Cameron was fine. She just wished she could say the same about them.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
For some reason Heather wasn't surprised when there wasn't a message of success on her phone from Cameron or Liz. And she was even less surprised when she couldn't reach either of her parents. Their phones were off which meant one thing. They were in transit. Heather had not the slightest doubt that they knew where they were all headed and might actually beat them there. She left a message anyways as they headed to the warehouse. Jon wasn't happy about it, but Heather knew she was going to need them. Sure, she had plenty of training in hostage rescue, but none of it was practical experience yet. Her parents...well, there was very little that they had not experienced, she was sure of that.  
  
Antonio had wanted to go right up to the warehouse and barge right on in. Differences in upbringing, Heather thought, both annoyed and amused at him. She knew that they had to be careful and how to approach unseen, survey and then return and report. Antonio was a man used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. And he was determined that he was going to get Janna back. Unfortunately, the men they were dealing with weren't going to be intimidated in the slightest by any of them. At least not until they were given a reason to be.  
  
The three of them halted at a warehouse close to the target, peeping around the corner to survey the address that Cam had left. "Camera over the door," Heather said softly, pointing.  
  
"I see nothing," Antonio muttered.  
  
"You wouldn't. But I can see it and that's what counts."  
  
"Are the windows covered?" Jon asked quickly, staving off Antonio's biting retort. Those two had agreed to work together, but that didn't mean either of them liked it. He was spending more time playing referee then helping in a rescue.  
  
"Just the door. They probably aren't expecting anyone to be able to go through the top floor." Heather glanced up and Jon and smirked. He shook his head.  
  
"Not by yourself. You don't know how many and where the twins are." Telekinesis only went so far. If the twins had been taken, then that meant there were enough men in there to handle two transgenics, plus Janna. In that case, it was a much better idea to wait for the parents to get here and then make it a group effort.  
  
"I'm going to go to the roof and do a little reconnaissance," she said. Jon gave her a warning look. "I know how much I can handle. If there's too many then I'll pull back and we keep them contained until my parents get here."  
  
She glanced up at the warehouse next to them. It was only a couple of stories high, about the same height as the one they needed to get into. Heather easily jumped up, landing on the top of a window casement and then jumping again quickly, her hands catching the edge of the roof. She swung up onto it and silently crossed the expanse, staying low to minimize chances of being seen. The area wasn't busy, but there was no need to take unnecessary risks. Had she known about it, she would have taken a moment to be amused by Antonio's shocked expression. There was a big difference in knowing what someone could do and actually witnessing it for the first time.  
  
Antonio noticed Jon's look of bemusement. "Is she always such a display?" he asked irritably.  
  
Jon grinned. "Not always. Sometimes she really shows off." Antonio could only shake his head. In many ways he truly wished he had never started searching for the necklace on his own. Of course that would mean he would never have met Janna, but then he wouldn't have had to deal with this pair. And Jonathan had said their parents were worse. Perhaps Janna would consent to remaining in Europe while her parents continued living in America.  
  
Heather dashed across the roof, leaping to the next one easily. She slid over to a side window and rolled through it silently. Heather crouched on the floor and listened, all of her enhanced senses on high alert. She could hear a few rats scratching through the walls, but nothing else. Not a murmur of a human voice anywhere. Why was it she was the only kid in the family without the slightest touch of telepathy? That would have been really helpful about then.  
  
Heather went down to the first floor and got the same feel. She had spent a lot of hours in training, learning how to find someone hiding in a big building. She had excellent instincts for when a place was empty. This place was a tomb. She grabbed her cell and called Jon. "They're gone," she said flatly.  
  
A few minutes later Jon and Antonio came in as she was poking around. They saw her crouched over a spot on the floor and came up behind her cautiously. "Dried blood," Heather said very calmly, pointing at the dark patch on the floor. "There are bullet holes in that post over there and dried blood on the floor."  
  
Jon knelt beside her. "You don't know whose it is."  
  
Her face turned towards him slowly, eyes flat and cold with restrained terror. Her words came out slowly and measured with emphasis. "I know they did not call me and let me know they're okay. I know they're not here. I know there was a hell of a lot of shooting in here and someone bled quite heavily. And you know what Jon? I don't like knowing these things. I don't like knowing them one bit." She looked back down at the dried puddle and all three of them were very quiet.  
  
"Yeah, like ten guys shooting and not one could hit us. It was great."  
  
The trio on the floor jumped a mile at the voice right behind them. Heather tried twisting around and ended up flat on her butt, jaw somewhere between her knees with Jon sprawled beside her. Antonio spun around, an explosion of Italian curses escaping him when invisible hands picked up the young man that had crept up behind them and slammed him against the wall.  
  
Cameron woofed as the wind got knocked out of him. It had been a while since Heather had done that to him and Uncle Cole was right. She was so much stronger now then she was as a kid. He kicked a couple of times, but his toes were dangling a good three feet off of the ground. "Heather, put me down!" he yelled. There's not much time!" Words to regret when he was suddenly dropped, landing in a heap.  
  
All of them got to their feet. Heather was wondering if her heart was going to get out of the vapor lock that it went into when Cameron started talking. That was not funny. Not in the slightest. Little smart ass. Nothing changed with him. He was the same now as he was at thirteen. Well, he was slightly different at the moment. Cameron was soaking wet and had a bloody strip of cloth tied around a finger.  
  
Cameron glanced at Antonio curiously. "Who..." he got out, but there was no need to go further. Antonio had been shocked into letting his natural mental shields go down and everything was right there. Cameron got a whiff and then jumped in to grab whatever was there. And there was a whole lot for the grabbing. In three seconds he knew exactly who Antonio was and why he was there.  
  
Cameron looked at Heather and Jon, his eyes wide. "Oh hell no," he managed to get out. "You..." he sputtered, pointing. "That's...are you nuts?" he yelled and then followed it with a gout of explicative that actually would have rivaled anything their mother could have come up with even when she was in the worst of tempers.  
  
"Don't even start on me!" Heather yelled back at her brother. "It's your fault we're all here in the first place and your darling cousin's fault that he knows about everything else to boot!"  
  
"What in God's name is going on?" Antonio demanded.  
  
Jon slid up beside him. "Telekinesis," he said, pointing at Heather. "Telepathy," he added pointing at Cameron. "Together...this is pretty typical. You should see holidays."  
  
"Okay," Cameron said dismissively. "I'm kicking Janna's ass later for this one." He looked over at Antonio disgustedly. "And stop thinking about her! Yeah, fine, she's hot, but damn, she's my cousin and I don't need the visuals on her naked." Antonio flushed. Was nothing sacred in this family? "Be in love with her all you want, but keep it to yourself," Cameron added.  
  
"I am not," Antonio protested automatically.  
  
Cameron let out a snort. "You'll realize it soon enough. That's not important anyways. What's important is that the girls are on their way to Egypt right now and we need to get there ASAP."  
  
Heather and Jon both glanced at Antonio, the absurdity of the situation making them both want to laugh despite everything. Maybe it was more relief that obviously Liz and Janna were still alive and couldn't be in too much danger. There was no way Cameron would leave his twin if she were in mortal danger. Heather had to bite back a smirk. Antonio had been warned about what would happen if he messed with the family. But...Janna hooking a guy like Antonio that easily? They had thought she was more like her father, but once she decided to show off what she had inherited from her mother, the girl had gotten off with a big bang.  
  
"First, what happened and how are you free and they're not?" Heather asked. "And why did you come back here?"  
  
Cameron adjusted the bandage on his finger. "Because I knew you'd be showing up soon. Everything was fine and then Liz broke the statue 'cause there was no way to get Janna out alive too and then they...I'll explain on the way." He glanced at Antonio. "A plane? Sweet. Call the pilot and get him ready. They got a head start, but I know where they're taking them."  
  
"Stop that!" Antonio yelled. Cameron smirked.  
  
"You're the one that insisted you wanted to come," Heather chirped, liking her little brother more than she had in a long time. Antonio cursed again and grabbed his cell phone as they raced out the door, telling the pilots to get ready once again. There were still miles to go on this journey. 


	34. Into the Tunnel

It took more willpower then Liz thought she possessed to not fight and get out when she realized she was completely out of contact with Cameron. So where was he? He had promised to stay close and now he wasn't close enough to stay in touch which meant anything could happen and he wouldn't know or if something happened to him she wouldn't know and what the hell was she going to do if she couldn't get to him? But other than some minor mental hysteria, everything seemed to be going rather smoothly.  
  
The three women were hustled quickly onto a small plane and then flown out over the ocean. Southwood, Bentley and two thugs glared daggers at them and refused to speak. A few hours later and they were suddenly over yellow sand with a single stripe of green cutting the monotone landscape. Egypt. Cities and towns could be seen straddling the Nile down its length. The plane cruised down the length of the river, finally turning inland and flying for a short while away from the river and any semblance of civilization before landing on a strip that was nothing more than hard packed dirt.  
  
The plane was unloaded and much to Liz's dismay there were at least six more thugs waiting for them. That was just flat out too many for now. She was going to have to figure out some way to get the number down a bit without getting one of them killed. And there wasn't a way for Cameron to have followed. Sure, he knew where they were going thanks to Emilie, but unless he managed to charter a plane, there wasn't much chance of him being able to get out here. It was going to be up to her to get the three of them out of there. Well, she was smart and telepathic. She was just going to have to use that to split up the men, take out whoever was left and get the hell out of there. She wasn't a licensed pilot, but Uncle Justin had taught her enough when her and Cameron had spent a summer in LA to fly them out of there. Landing wasn't going to be pretty, but chances of surviving that were much higher than sticking around.  
  
The entrance to the cave wasn't impressive. It was just a small opening in the ground. Emilie didn't think it would be something grand, although excavations around there might prove to be interesting. The people of this area in antiquity had made a trade out of treasure protection. There were a lot of travelers and people wanting to go from one area to another, trading and making profits. However, shipping back the good wasn't very easy and if the owner wasn't present, chances were good that the entire load wouldn't make it back to the Mediterranean Sea. The people of Al- Naron were a small tribe that was known for their scrupulous honesty. Over time, they became treasure protectors. The complex of caves underground would boggle most thieves by itself and there was but a few entrances. For a nominal fee they would allow a person to put their accumulated trade merchandise in the caves and when they returned for it, a point of pride was that not a single coin or gem would be missing. Theoretically this should have ended a thousand years ago, but legend persisted that a treasure was left behind when a Spanish nobleman went into the desert to for some reason that nobody knew. Legend said that shortly after he hid his treasure, there was a terrible earthquake and the entrance to the cave was blocked and hidden for all time. But somehow Southwood had managed to find the place, and the map and put the pieces together. It was actually pretty impressive if one chose to think about it.  
  
One of the thugs took Southwood off to the side, whispering urgently and gesturing into the cave a few times. There was no mistaking the fact that he looked rather scared. They thought they were far enough away but both Liz and Janna could hear the worried conversation. They had received the first glyph and made a foray into the tunnel it marked. It went well. Nothing bad had happened at all. But then one of the guys went into the other cave and an ancient trap had yawned open, the false floor giving out and dropping him about ten feet into a pit of sharpened stakes. The people of Al-Naron had guarded their secrets and treasures very well. The thug was worried. There had to be other traps and one mistake was going to be the death of them all. Southwood had glared at him and said that if he didn't want to take a chance in the cave, then he was going to be food for vultures in a few seconds. Nothing more was needed.  
  
Janna and Liz exchanged a quick glance, both trying to hold back a smirk. Traps. Yawn. They had handled the best that the world had to offer now, and that included when the one alarm went off and released a swarm of bees. Liz had ducked that one without getting a single sting. But these guys were used to intimidating informants and scaring people into giving up protection money. They didn't know how to look for traps and they certainly didn't have the extra abilities that Liz and Janna had. Plus Emilie was on their side. She didn't seem to be the type that would object to eliminating a little of the competition.  
  
Southwood approached them, carrying a flat leather case that Emilie recognized. The map. He sneered at the three women, but his desperation was starting to gleam through ever so slightly. At this point, he had nothing to lose at all. He unzipped the case. "Okay," he snapped and then nodded towards Janna. "Since you're all such good friends, whatever turn you decide to make, she's going down first. For your sake, you better hope that they are good friends," he dripped sarcastically towards Janna.  
  
Janna rolled her eyes and looked away. Idiot. A surreptitious look at Liz and both of them knew the plan and agreed in a second. Emilie caught the look and bit back a smile. Her two companions reminded her more of her mother than the girls she had known at university. Emilie took the case that was being shoved at her, her eyes flickering over the faded ink. The map and statue were two parts of the key to finding the treasure. The map said which glyph meant what and had a basic diagram. The statue said which order to select the hieroglyphs in. And the map had some warnings about the different pitfalls. But Emilie didn't think that those needed to be revealed just yet. Why ruin the surprise?  
  
The map wasn't needed for the first leg, just the first hieroglyph. But that was only about a hundred yards down into the caves. And even that far had proven to be deadly to anyone with the wrong information. No wonder the thugs were all quite nervous. This was getting amusing in a twisted sort of way.  
  
They all entered the cave, Liz and Emilie leading with Janna and a thug with a gun following close behind. A couple more thugs followed with Southwood and Bentley near the rear with another set of hired help. The temperature was noticeably cooler in the cave, but the air was still incredibly dry and still. Once they got past the small entrance, it flared out considerably so that they could stand easily and fan apart slightly. Janna appreciated that. Her thug obviously had been out here for a while and bathing wasn't a priority in his life. Despite the relative coolness inside, he was still pouring sweat. He's terrified, Janna thought. He was used to concrete shoes and beating people up. This was way beyond his league.  
  
They came to the first turn beyond where Southwood's men had explored. Protected from the wind and the rain, the ancient carvings in the stone were still deep and fresh. Liz looked at them carefully, mentally going back to the statue and examining it. This would be easier if they would hold the lights still. Good thing she could see in the dark. "That one," she said softly, pointing at the third one down.  
  
With the map, the placement of the glyph on the wall was just as important as the glyph itself. Emilie looked at the small drawing on the paper, translated the words beside it and then pointed to the tunnel on the left. "That's the one." Her voice was low, barely above a whisper. The men thought the tremor in it was fear, but it was excitement that she couldn't contain. She had said she wouldn't do this, but now that she was here; there was no way to stop herself. She had to see if the legends were true or not.  
  
Janna's new best friend nudged her forward with the barrel of his gun. She took a breath and stepped forward into the darkness. She really wished she had been given some decent hiking boots or something. These shoes were really cute, but they were going to be murder on the feet after a while, not to mention the serious lack of traction she was dealing with. At least they let her have one of the lights. Not that she really needed it though, but there wasn't a need to give that away quite yet. She went down about twenty-five feet, stepping carefully. The ground was solid and there weren't any hidden levers or the like that she could see.  
  
She sauntered back. "All right," she said, picking back up on the Jaqui accent, "now that I have returned alive and well, you big, brave men can follow. But there were a few spiders so please refrain from screaming like a child if one should drop on you."  
  
Her comments were met with a few glares. "We need to be careful anyways," Emilie said firmly, glancing over her shoulder at the men behind them. "There are no guarantees that even the right tunnel is going to be safe. She caught a ghost of a grin touch Liz's mouth. This was almost, just almost getting to be fun. The men really thought that they had the upper hand. They really, really did. She wondered if they realized that getting out in a cave system like this could be harder than getting in.  
  
They came to the next bend and the process was repeated. The men behind them were noticeably more relaxed now that things were finally going as planned. They didn't notice the tight little smile on Liz's face. They saw blackness above them. She saw details. And all it was going to take was to see one or two little things; a well-timed stumble and those men's outlook on life were going to change drastically. All the three girls were going to have to do was keep from getting themselves killed in the process.  
  
Now this was fun.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Wait a second," Cameron interrupted the piecing together of the tale that Antonio and Heather were giving him after he had explained what happened with Southwood and filled in those details, just skipping over that weird impulse that made him kiss Emilie good bye. "So the legendary Spaniard might be the one that hooked up with your ancestress. Okay, I get that. But you're screwing with me about that whole showing up thing, right?"  
  
They were telling him the story of Isabella and the necklace when Cameron had gotten this funny look and began demanding more information about Isabella right down to what she looked like. "It is only a family legend of sorts," Antonio said dismissively, sounding a little embarrassed. "My mother claims that it is true that Isabella has prevented thefts before, but..."  
  
"I knew it!" Cameron yelled, jumping up. "HA! I knew I wasn't going crazy."  
  
"No, you long since went crazy when you started pulling all this crap," Heather said irritably. "Now stop jumping up and down like an idiot."  
  
He smirked evilly at her. "I'm not making you sick, am I?" She glared at him viciously and then he was suddenly on his rear in his seat. He wasn't cowed. He had survived worse from his older sister. "Nah," he added in that same spiteful tone. "You had a long flight over here. Probably just down to the dry heaves by now, huh? All this swooping and banking and up and down..."  
  
"Cameron!" Jon snapped before Heather could slap the bejeezus out of her brother. She wasn't throwing up again despite some minor turbulence. "Will you stop screwing around and tell us what you're talking about?"  
  
Cameron sat up. "So I grabbed the necklace," he began. "And everything is going better than planned." He looked at Antonio apologetically. "No offense, your system was really good, but we're just pretty much unbeatable."  
  
"Not when Mom and Dad get their hands on you," Heather muttered.  
  
Cameron looked down for a moment. That was painfully true. Oh well. Being beaten by them was pretty much inevitable at this point. "Anyways, I turn around, and there's this chick. And for a second I'm thinking she's got to be a maid or something, but then it hits me that first, she's in this dress from the thirteenth or fourteenth century and second, I can sort of see through her. She opens her mouth like she's about to scream and then suddenly smiles or something and disappears."  
  
"What did you do?" Jon asked.  
  
"Invited her to tea," Cameron said sarcastically. "What do you think I did? I ran like hell. And trust me, I don't care how brave you think you are, but when someone shows up that you can see through, it's pretty much instinct to vacate the premises. Janna and Liz thought I must have lost it, or that it was some kind of projection, but that didn't look like any kind of projection that I had ever seen before." He smiled, looking rather pleased with himself. "You guys are going to have to back me on this when I tell them that I really did see a ghost." He sat back in his chair, smiling the smile of the vindicated.  
  
Antonio looked out the window thoughtfully. "According to family legend, Isabella always shrieked when a thief approached her necklace. I wonder if she meant to scream, but chose not to when the statue was taken."  
  
Heather blinked. "You can't be serious. Come on. Ghosts giving...permission if you will? That's a little hard to believe, and considering who you're talking to, that should say a lot."  
  
He raised a dark eyebrow at her. "Hard to believe or not, it is what happened. If the Spaniard of Al-Naron is in fact her lost Diego, perhaps that statue was the key to discovering why he never returned for her."  
  
"You'll have to forgive her," Cameron said with a little grin, gesturing towards his sister. "She never believed in Santa Claus either." He ran a hand through his blonde hair ignoring the daggers she was glaring at him.  
  
Antonio was amused by the interaction between this brother and sister. He wouldn't have suspected they were siblings by personalities, although there was a passable resemblance. Cameron was as relaxed about himself and what they were doing as she was serious. The only thing that he was edgy about was the fate of his twin, but he was also extremely confident that he would know if something happened to her. And both of them believed that Liz would extricate herself and Janna in a bad situation. Still, it was fun to watch Cameron get a few in on Heather. The young man knew exactly how to irritate his older sister and just how to keep her on edge. He obviously had a great deal of practice at driving her crazy.  
  
In a way Heather was starting to be glad that Antonio was there for the sheer sake of transport. He managed to get them to Egypt without the slightest problem and while there made arrangements for a helicopter to be at the airport where they were going to land and take them out to the site Cameron said the girls had been taken to. Heather was concerned that the helicopter pilot might get a little worried about what they were doing if someone started shooting, but Antonio smirked in that arrogant way that begged to be slapped. Then he revealed that he would be the pilot. Flying a plane had never seemed interesting to him, but a helicopter was quite fun. Heather instantly regretted every rude comment she had made to him because he was so going to get her back once everyone was safe.  
  
They made it to Egypt without incident and everything was ready when they landed. There were several handguns on the plane, in an age where the wealthy were frequently targeted for kidnappings and political killings, having a few weapons hidden were a must, and they were transported into the helicopter. Even Cameron said that Heather should be the one that was armed. His sister could be a pain in the butt, but she was a nearly perfect shot every time. He thought it was an unconscious use of the kinesis even though Heather claimed there was no way for her to be able to control a bullet moving that quickly. It didn't matter why; the point was the girl didn't miss.  
  
Now Cameron was getting a little edgy. They were close enough where he should have been able to have some contact with Liz, but so far nothing. He knew that she wasn't hurt, but that really wasn't as reassuring as he was letting on. He wanted some kind of contact to know that she was safe. So far there was just the sound of the helicopter filling his ears and nothing in that secret place in his mind where the telepathy held court.  
  
Luck was with them in a small way with a good headwind blowing the sounds of the approaching helicopter. It gave them a few seconds to get closer, but three men suddenly darted from the front of the cave, their guns raised.  
  
Heather didn't hesitate. If they kept their aim and hit Antonio, all three of them were dead. She saw them and suddenly shoved the door open, sliding out of the seat and falling forward. Her right leg caught the skid and she swung around, the sound of bullets coming all too close. But they were coming close to her, and not the other occupants. In a heartbeat, she drew both guns she was carrying, aimed and fired four times with each hand, striking the guards easily.  
  
She disentangled her leg and dropped the forty feet or so into the yellow sand, not noticing Antonio's gape of amazement. She crouched low for a second, her enhanced vision piercing into the dark cave. Nothing. As the helicopter landed behind her, she checked the guards. Dead. That HRT sniper training had really honed her skills in the last two months.  
  
Jon was out of the helicopter before Antonio could have it shut down and ran to where Heather was checking the last guard. "Are you okay?" he gasped.  
  
"I'm fine." Her reassurance wasn't helping. That was obvious. "Jon, I wasn't in any danger with falling. I didn't have kinetics at all, I swear."  
  
Jon wanted to yell at her to never do that again. Unfortunately, he also knew that would be something that she might do at the next family reunion because it looked like fun. "Next time," he said very softly, "keep in mind that you're not wearing a bullet proof vest."  
  
"Jon," Heather went to protest, but he simply touched her shoulder and she realized he was playing with a hole in her sleeve. Her mouth snapped shut. "Point taken," she said contritely.  
  
Cameron was already looking into the cave. Signs of earthquake damage and recent excavations were quite evident. He was willing to bet that in the sands nearby would be some bodies of locals that had helped out for the first few days and then eliminated once they went from helpful to knowing too much. Their families would probably never know what happened to them, but in a thousand years some archeologist would dig up the remains that had mummified in the sand and wonder what had happened. Ironic in a way.  
  
For Heather and Cameron the darkness in the cave wasn't a problem, but Jon and Antonio needed some kind of light. Their high-powered flashlights lit up the immediate area and Heather could only hope that the bad guys up ahead wouldn't notice their light. There was just one other nagging problem. What direction?  
  
"You didn't happen to look at the map?" she asked her brother as she investigated the footprints in the sand. That would do for now, but it was possible that there would be a place where there was no sand and no way to know which direction to head.  
  
Cameron shot her a grin. "Don't need it." His arms crossed and he got a rather drifty look that Heather knew all too well. Normally it meant that the police would be looking for someone of his or Liz's description very soon. But today, it was a welcome sight.  
  
(having fun?)  
  
(CAM!)  
  
(want to point us in the right direction?)  
  
(take the first right, next two are lefts....us?)  
  
(wouldn't be a rescue if the brigade wasn't here)  
  
(oh, god, not mom and dad)  
  
(no....will you tell janna that her boy's all right)  
  
(her what?)  
  
(you heard me...fill you in on the details later baby sister)  
  
(why do i feel like i don't want to know...holler when you need the next direction)  
  
(will do...hey, anything we need to watch out for)  
  
A mental ripple that signified a laugh.  
  
(no...a couple of guys in the group tripped a trap that we just didn't see...poor things, may they rest in peace)  
  
(LIZ!)  
  
(don't worry...emilie orchestrated it better than you'd think and i just carried it through...pretty funny actually)  
  
(you are not right in the head)  
  
(so i have been told...just get here quick because they are really getting nervous and that's not good)  
  
Cameron looked up at the other three, worried about the concern in his twin at the end. If Liz was starting to worry, then time was shorter than they thought. "We take the first right tunnel and then the next two are lefts," he said.  
  
Heather grinned. "When we get closer, we're going to have to go in with no lights." She glanced over at the two men. "You're just going to have to trust that Cam and I can see. And then they won't have the slightest idea that they're being followed."  
  
Cameron nodded. "We're going to have to move quick and be on them before they hit the treasure area," he said. Heather looked at him questioningly. He paused for a second. "I've just been thinking about what the texts actually say...it doesn't matter, let's just get them out of there fast."  
  
In silent agreement, the four of them began heading deeper into the caves, stealthily tracking their elusive prey. 


	35. Endgame

They were getting close to the end. That was becoming obvious from the map, Emilie thought. There weren't that many directions left, so as long as the map was accurate, soon they were going to come to the end. Liz had slowed them down some too, which didn't make Southwood happy. But then again in that little "accident" with the trap that killed two of his men, Liz was lucky to get away with a sprained ankle. Southwood almost had a coronary over that, seeing the key to the map almost falling and barely pulling herself up out of that pit in the nick of time. There was just one little thing that he hadn't noticed. Liz had been limping on the left side, but after the last rest, she limped on the right until a discreet nudge from Janna corrected her. Emilie wondered why Liz would intentionally piss Southwood off by slowing down and then it hit her at their last rest. Liz was listening to someone despite the silence. Cameron was closing in on them and she was letting him catch up.  
  
The thought was heartening although Emilie wasn't sure why exactly. They were still outnumbered even with Cameron's help. The element of surprise was going to be on their side, but these guys weren't going to be afraid to kill any of them once they found what they were looking for. As a matter of fact, chances were they were going to kill them. Bentley had made marks at every turn to indicate the right direction to get them out. Once they reached the center, then the girls were just going to be dead weight. Emilie knew she should be terrified, but there was something in Liz's expression that said she had an ace up her sleeve. And Janna seemed to know what it was as well. It was really becoming bothersome to be the only one in the adventure that didn't know what in the bleeding hell was going on.  
  
And then finally they turned a corner and all of them were startled by a dim glow of light up ahead. For a second the whole group froze. Emilie spoke up softly. "In the tales, it said that the people here had huge tanks of oil, like Emperor Chin of China's tomb, so that the place where the treasure was hidden would glow forever."  
  
There seemed to be an aura of awe about the group as they edged forward down the final tunnel, emerging into a large circular room. It soared at least twenty feet high with terraces carved into the walls and one large outcropping of rock near the top. As Emilie had suggested, small bowl shapes had been carved into the walls and they were burning gently, illuminating the room in a soft glow. Several of the bowls were no longer burning, the rock empty of any oil. Either the lines had broken at some point in the last millennia or the oil was finally starting to run low. The flames danced to a soft breeze of air that was circulating through the cave. Somewhere there had to be either a secret entrance that was open or some kind of air vents. Whoever had designed this place was a master architect. He had obviously meant for this place to be around forever.  
  
Liz knew that Emilie was worried about something beyond their present situation. She had been doing that "yelling" thing more than once for Liz to be ready for possible trouble when they got to the treasure chamber. Well duh, Liz thought to herself. Of course there was going to be trouble. But then she realized that what Emilie was worried about was what was going to happen when Southwood found the fortune that was supposed to be there. Emilie believed that there was something there, but it was the what that had her concerned. She was thinking that Southwood was going to get a nasty surprise. Liz didn't care about what Southwood was going to find in order for him to get a nasty surprise. She knew who was close behind and that was all of the nasty surprise that they needed.  
  
"Eww!" Janna couldn't help but blurt out, one finger pointing, her nose wrinkling. Emilie and Liz followed her finger to a smooth part of the wall where a corpse was lying on what had once been a bed pallet. The dry air of the cave had been a preservative, causing the body to mummify rather than decompose. The three girls started to go over there when one of Southwood's goons tried to stop them  
  
Emilie looked over her shoulder in disgust. "We helped to get where you wanted to go," she said, annoyed. "There's only one way out so will you please tell your ape we're just going to have ourselves a bit of a look around?"  
  
Southwood was carefully removing some pieces of wood that were leaning over several chests on the ground. Bentley heard and waved away the guard. It wasn't like the girls were going to be able to remove anything. He had every intention of making sure they didn't try to sneak anything out before leaving their bodies to molder along side the other person that had been here for a while.  
  
The guard stepped out of the way and they went over to the body. Emilie's eyes raked over it, trying to place what time it came from by the way the body was dressed. Certainly not Egyptian. Fourteenth or Fifteenth century European if she had to guess.  
  
"Can you read that?" Liz asked softly, pointing to words scraped into the rock over the body.  
  
Emilie looked at the words. They were old and faded, but still legible. "Old Spanish," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don Diego Goya del Fuentes. Isabella, I will come for you."  
  
Janna's eyes widened at the names. While they were waiting for the rain to stop on the golf course, Antonio had told her about the history of the necklace and why it meant so much to his family. So this is why the poor guy never came back for the love of his life. She wondered if Antonio would want to come back here and see the man that much of his family's legends had been built around. She stared at the mummified body with more compassion than the revulsion she had felt before. In his hand was a flaking leather bag. She could imagine him holding onto that bag, uttering his final words, a declaration of eternal love to his princess far away, as the illness or wound that had brought him down finally claimed his life.  
  
Emilie was looking at some other inscriptions in hieroglyphics on the wall and Liz was keeping an eye on Southwood and his men. Janna quietly took the bag out of the corpse's hand, curious to see what it was that he had held onto so desperately in his final moments. Maybe a crucifix or some family symbol? Nobody noticed her opening it carefully, her eyes getting huge at seeing what was in the bag.  
  
"WHAT?" Southwood's shout echoed throughout the chamber. The goon that had been casually watching the girls hustled them over to where the men were. Southwood was kneeling at the largest chest in the room, the lock having been knocked off and the lid opened. He reached in and lifted out a handful of dark pellet-like objects. Behind the chests bundles of dried reeds had been pulled apart, revealing large bundles of rotted cloth.  
  
"What is this?" Southwood demanded, his eyes scorching. His blazing gaze rested on Emilie.  
  
"If I had to wager a guess, I would say pepper," she replied calmly.  
  
"Where is the gold, you fool?" he hissed. "The legendary riches and treasure?"  
  
Emilie shrugged. "Gold and jewels were easy to get in Europe," she said softly but smugly. "I told you that you should have let me do more research on what the treasure was. It wasn't gold that men brought back from the east. To become really rich, you brought back silk and spices. It was called the Silk Road for a reason." She paused. "You fool."  
  
There was no mistaking the shock and horror on Southwood's face as he realized what she meant. All of the planning and deceit and cost. All that he had risked and it was all for what you could now get in any grocery store. Pepper. And the little arrogant Mick standing in front of him knew. All along she had *known* what they were going to find in there.  
  
He glanced over at the three goons still with them. "They better beg to die," he ordered coldly. The malevolence of his tone lit up their faces. All three of them thought the girls were rather attractive and being given free reign was going to be fun. Liz took a step in front of the other two, making them smirk at the grim determination in her eyes.  
  
Liz wasn't counting Emilie and Janna as in the fight really. They might be able to kick a few times, but neither of them could dodge bullets. The entrance to the cavern was to their right, but there was no way to make a break for it without getting shot. She knew that the others were closing in rapidly, but she wasn't too sure how far and there was no way she could break concentration now to ask Cameron. So it was five against one until her brother and sister decided to show up. Okay. She could handle that. Her eyes narrowed on them, her delicate features taking on a feral look. She would never know it, but it was the exact look her mother used to have a moment before an assassination.  
  
For a second the men hesitated. The girl seemed like she had too many surprises in store. They weren't the type that liked surprises. The lead man drew his gun and sneered at the other two. "Don't worry. One in the knee calms 'em down quick." He aimed at her, the barrel dropping low so that it wouldn't be a killing shot.  
  
Liz tensed knowing that there was only going to be one chance. Emilie and Janna weren't standing directly behind her so they wouldn't get hit with a stray bullet. This wasn't going to be pretty. Nope not at all.  
  
It was almost simultaneous. A gunshot rang out as Liz dropped to her knees. Time seemed to slow as the man turned slowly towards his companions, confusion on his features. A thread of blood ran from his left temple and then he collapsed onto the ground, a chunk missing from the right side of his head. Out of the utter blackness of the caves, Heather and Cameron emerged, a thread of smoke still trickling from the barrel of the gun Heather was holding in her left hand.  
  
Liz peeped over her shoulder at her sister and brother. She had been a heartbeat away from springing when Cameron had yelled at her to get down. Instinct had made her drop to the ground before her conscious mind could try and talk some sense into her. She glanced back at Southwood, a slow grin emerging at his stunned expression seeing Cameron alive and well.  
  
"You got your gang, I got mine," she grinned, standing back up. Heather and Cameron circled around so that they were flanking Liz, Heather still holding a gun in each hand.  
  
Cameron smirked at their stunned expressions seeing him alive. "It's kind of hard to kill an immortal," he said with a grin that matched his twin's. "We just keep coming back for more."  
  
The other two men had their guns half-drawn, frozen in place. They just went from three helpless girls, to three helpless girls, a guy that should be dead and Lara Croft without the implants. One of the guys glanced towards the entrance and that was when Jon and Antonio stepped through.  
  
"Not going to happen," Jon said, his lips twisted in a sarcastic sneer.  
  
When Janna saw the two men step through the opening, she felt weak in the knees. First, because Antonio obviously hadn't been killed when he followed her home. And second because he was with Heather and Jon and Cameron of all people. That was not as reassuring of a thought. His dark eyes caught hers, saying everything that needed to be said at that moment. With an extreme effort of will, she tore her eyes away from him and faced forward, mouth set in a grim line.  
  
It was Bentley that stepped forward a cool smirk gracing his mouth. His hands were raised slightly, showing that they were empty. "Well, played," he said in an almost friendly tone. "But what next? Are you going to slaughter us all?"  
  
He motioned to the two remaining guards to put their guns away. "I am a rather good judge of character," he bragged lightly. "I have to be in my position. And what I see is a group of people that are not killers. I don't think you can kill an unarmed man." His last words focused on Heather. There was the barest glimmer on her face that confirmed he was right.  
  
"So then what? Call the police and have us arrested? No, I don't think so. I would say this is a stale mate. There is nothing to be split. We do have that necklace and you did get your fee so all is fair there. We have markings to let us know which way to go and you have the map. I say we all simply walk away."  
  
No wonder the man was the assistant to a crime boss. He was a great negotiator and made some valid points there. They couldn't turn them in without exposing themselves. And Heather knew without a doubt that she couldn't just execute a bunch of people. She might look like her mother, but she didn't have the same training and ways of thinking. Bentley smiled wider as her guns dropped slightly.  
  
The wet punching sound was a soft "glurt", but it seemed to fill the entire cavern. Bentley's smiled widened for a second in a rictus grin, his eyes rolling down as if trying to see the handle of the knife that was now sticking through his throat. Then he collapsed into an undignified heap onto the ground.  
  
All eyes swung to the rock outcropping near the top of the cavern where three people lightly stepped off of it, dropping easily to the ground below. Antonio was the only one to notice that the determination he had seen in the family members was suddenly stark fear at the new arrivals. They went from tough adults to a bunch of scared kids with every step forward and Antonio didn't think it had anything to do with the assault rifle that the man was holding. Then it hit him. He had seen all three of them in the pictures in Liz's bedroom. The blonde man and woman were the twins and Heather's parents and the other woman was unmistakable as Janna's mother.  
  
"He was right," Alicia said with a wry smile, the twin of the knife she had just thrown resting in her left hand. She twirled it back into the hip sheath. "They're not like that. But mommy and daddy are."  
  
Everything seemed to happen in a heartbeat. The kids hit the ground, Cameron pulling Emilie down with him and Antonio following Jon's lead to the ground as Zack squeezed off two rounds seemingly without aiming. Both of the goons flew backwards, one almost with his hand on a gun, but his speed was nowhere near Zack in a bad mood. They fell to the ground, crimson puddles spreading from one's head and the other's chest wound. Southwood jumped back, hitting the wall, his hand convulsively grabbing one of the oil burners that had gone out. And then the thing turned sideways.  
  
A low rumble filled the chamber. A few rocks fell from the ceiling and then the ground trembled below their feet. And then the world seemed to fall apart. Rocks were falling, the ground yawing open, dust and debris flying everywhere, the tremors knocking everyone around violently. Cameron saw the ground starting to open under Emilie and grabbed her, rolling her over with him closer to a wall where there was marginal more safety, his body protecting hers. Antonio caught a glimpse of rocks heading towards Janna's head and jumped forward, pushing her out of the way just in time. She let out a small whimper as her ankle twisted in the fall, pain shooting up her leg. The earth beneath them suddenly split and both of them were sliding down a steep incline.  
  
It was over in a matter of seconds. "Kids?" Alicia called out, trying to see through the choking dust. The badass was gone and it was a worried mother wanting to know if her children were injured. Two things were apparent right off. The entrance was now blocked in a tumble of rocks and Janna was nowhere to be seen. Zack was with the girls. That was good. Cameron had a pretty redhead on top of him. That was interesting. Alicia spotted Max, looking down into a crevasse that had opened. Her eyes met Max's for a moment and Alicia knew where Janna was. Right in the middle of trouble as always. Her twins weren't a bad influence. They were just a catalyst for someone's innate ability to get into trouble on their own.  
  
Janna and Antonio had slid down a steep incline, dumping them out onto a ledge in the wall of the rock. Antonio got to his feet first, getting over to Janna, making sure she wasn't injured. She had a small scratch on her forehead that was trickling blood, but it didn't look serious. She blinked at him dazedly.  
  
"Got a quarter?" she mumbled.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I think I want to take that ride again." Antonio smiled in relief and she smiled weakly back. "Hey, that was kind of fun."  
  
"Perhaps we should try the 'getting out of here' ride next." He could see the humor in her remark now that his heart was beating again knowing that she wasn't really injured.  
  
A gun cocking made them both jump. Southwood was rising from where he had fallen, a sneer twisting his mouth. There was no sanity at all in his gaze and neither of them needed to be told that he had no problem taking out the people that had just cost him everything. Janna thought she might still be able to take him until she put a little weight on her ankle and a hot sizzle of pain ran up her leg. That wasn't going to work. She could feel Antonio tense and knew he was about to do something stupid.  
  
"You can't win if you're dead, you whoring little bitch," he hissed out, ready to savor the sight of Janna's bleeding body falling over the edge and into the black below. Instead he let out a shocked little yawp when a figure in black dropped beside him and snatched the gun out of his hand as easily as an adult taking something from a child.  
  
Max backhanded Southwood in the face, slapping him to the ground. "First of all," she declared, her voice picking up the ghetto accent that only came back anymore when she was royally pissed. "You do not use that kind of language around my little girl, aiight? I smacked down my boy Sketchy more than once for making with the nasty talk around her, you no exception to the rule, got that?"  
  
She looked disdainfully at the gun in her hand. "Second, I hate guns." She tossed it lightly, letting it tumble into the abyss. Her hands went to her hips as Southwood started to get back to his feet.  
  
"Get the hell out of my way," he snarled at her, trying to intimidate her with his much larger size. Antonio went to take a step forward to help Max, but Janna grabbed him and shook her head. You didn't get in Mom's way when she started up with the ghetto speak. That was the sign that you should run as far and as fast as possible.  
  
"Mmmhmmm." Max wasn't impressed by Southwood's demand. "Obviously, explanations are needed." Her movement was so fast, it was barely caught by the human eye as she whipped around, a kick catching him in the gut knocking him back and driving him to his knees. "See," she continued, "you were not the one that spent twenty-one hours in serious amounts of pain trying to get that little girl out of your body. I don't like spending that long doing something that feels good, we clear on that? But I went through it for her. I brought her in the world, so you looking at the only one that's gonna take her out."  
  
Southwood leapt at Max, intent on using his greater weight to shove her over the edge, but she sidestepped, her leg slamming into his midsection. A roundhouse punch had him back on the ground, his lip split and bleeding. "One of the good things about being a mother," she said, cracking her knuckles, eyes glittering malevolently, "is that you learn a lot of ways to explain something to someone. We can rock this issue all day and night. I'm up for it. You?"  
  
"Are you done playing with him?" Zack asked calmly. He had slid down the incline so stealthily that not a rock moved with him. Max jumped slightly and looked over at her brother.  
  
"Just trying to make with the life lessons."  
  
"You and Jhondie," he muttered. "Always have to play with everything first." He grabbed Southwood by the nape of the neck, a sharp snapping sound carrying clearly on the air. Southwood slumped to the ground and Zack unceremoniously flicked him off of the ledge to whatever was waiting in the darkness below. His eyes flashed over to Janna and Antonio and then back to Max. "Move out," he ordered.  
  
Repelling ropes had coiled downwards towards them and he caught one, scaling up it quickly. Max blew out a breath and sauntered over to where her offspring was standing, being supported by one fine-ass looking young man. It took a second to register, but she knew who he was. And he was all over Janna like he was going to protect her with his life. What was the dealio with that? Logan was going to be all kinds of trippin' when he hears about this, Max decided. Something else to blame on my wild genes.  
  
"Mom," Janna started to say, but Max held up a hand.  
  
"Not interested right now," she said firmly. Janna practically shrank back into Antonio. "We having ourselves a long mother-daughter chat all the way home later." Janna paled. "You hurt?" Max asked. Janna shook her head no and Max reached into her quilted black vest and pulled out a small bag, handing it to Janna.  
  
Janna opened it up and gasped as the necklace that they had stolen poured out into her hand. She looked up at her mother who just shook her head. "You can thank your father for that. I don't know what he did or who he called in favors from, but he was on the phone the whole way here then we hit France and Cole and Janice comes on in, hands the necklace over. They was all laughing and saying it was better than a second honeymoon." She sighed. "I am just so glad they are your aunt's family, cause I still don't get a one of them."  
  
"Thank you," Janna whispered.  
  
Max smiled just a bit, catching Antonio's expression as he looked at Janna and the necklace. Yeah, she had seen that expression before. Now if the boy said something about Janna having the singularly most beautiful face he had ever seen before, then there was no way Logan was ever going to let her live down this obvious corruption of their child. "You be a good girl and give that back and make with all of the apologies, baby girl," she said softly. "I'm going to get up there before your uncle has a kitten for us wasting all this time."  
  
She turned and left them alone for a minute. Janna smiled at Antonio. "I said I would try and get it back," she said. "My mother is going to kill me, but I kept my word." She opened her hand flat, offering him the glittering diamonds and gold. He took it from her carefully. It had been a while since he had touched the necklace himself and it seemed odd to see it in these surroundings.  
  
Antonio let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. "I think I understand a great deal more about you now. Not just what your cousin let slip about the unique family history, but has anyone ever told you that you are much like your mother?"  
  
Janna's eyes got wide. "Heather told you? And yeah, my dad would say he never thought he would have to live with Mom as a teenager when I was younger."  
  
Antonio thought for a second. "Your father must be a remarkable person." Janna smiled.  
  
"You don't know the half of it. And speaking of half..." She still had the leather bag that she had removed from the body in the central chamber. She opened it carefully and a flood of diamonds in a gold setting poured into her hand. Antonio's eyes widened as she carefully straightened them to reveal a twin of the necklace that he was holding. "I guess this proves the legends were true," she whispered.  
  
Antonio took it from her almost reverently. "She knew the statue pointed to him," he whispered. "His way back to her. That's why she didn't scream." Janna was looking at him like he had just flipped. He leaned over and kissed her sweetly. "Family legends," he said simply.  
  
"So, since you got the necklace back and solved a 400 year mystery, I guess all is forgiven?" she asked with the cutest little smile.  
  
Antonio grinned at her. "Not quite," he replied. And then placed the necklace that had been stolen back into her hand, closing her fingers around it. "You said you would do whatever it takes to put this back where it belongs. You better keep your promise, because you know I can find you."  
  
Janna was biting her lower lip in excitement. When she spoke, she picked up the French accent once more. "As you know, I am, as I have always been, a woman of my word."  
  
They kissed again and then Max was yelling down that if she had to come back down there, Janna Jacqueline, she was going to regret it. There was enough trouble going around and she did not want it getting heaped on more. Janna and Antonio shared another smile and then he began helping her back up to where the rest of the group was gathered and waiting. 


	36. The Scene of the Crime

The di LiCossa estate was much prettier in the sunshine; Janna decided as she was admitted past the front gate and drove up to the entrance. She was willing to bet that in the spring the place was going to be absolutely magnificent. A little quiver of excitement went through her as she envisioned herself visiting in the spring as well. There was no way anyone could deny that there was really something there between her and Antonio now. It was so strange, but they had plenty of time to explore out what was going on between them and decide what they wanted to do about it.  
  
They hadn't been able to talk much since leaving Egypt. Just a couple of phone calls really, one to make sure her parents hadn't killed her on the way home and then another to let him know when she was going to be coming to return something to him. It had been quite an argument for Janna to go back to Europe, but since the twins weren't going to be anywhere around, Max and Logan thought a visit would be safe enough. Especially considering that it was a victim that had invited her back for a social visit and not entrapment.  
  
They weren't going to have to come back and clean out their warehouse either. Cole, Xander and Zane had taken care of that. Anything that was incriminating was now completely gone and everything else was shipped back. Even the painting she had done for Cameron had been removed. Janna wouldn't have been surprised to learn that the paint had been stripped from the walls and the carpet ripped up. The parents made their opinion quite clear that the little ring they had going was completely over now. Not that it would have been able to continue anyways. After what happened, the whole world had changed for the trio.  
  
Actually, there were a lot of changes for a lot of people, starting with when Janna and Antonio got back into the chamber with everyone else. Cameron was rapidly trying to explain Emilie to his parents and how much she had helped and how she could be trusted. Zack wasn't looking convinced and Alicia had the weirdest look. Finally Cameron wore down and Alicia spoke up, her words making everyone else in the room look at her like she had flipped out. Well, all except Emilie who jumped about a mile and paled. "Amelia O'Brien."  
  
When Emilie jumped, Alicia smiled. "It's the eyes," she said with a smile. "I knew Amelia had a daughter and I thought it was you when I was reading a magazine article on a certain linguistics progeny, but it wasn't until now that I knew for sure. You look very much like your mother."  
  
Emilie's eyes were huge. "You're Molly, aren't you?" she breathed. Alicia gave her a small nod. "Mum said she didn't think Molly was quite human. Bloody right she was."  
  
Cameron looked at Emilie and then at his mother. "Is there anyone on this planet you don't know?" he complained and the asked Emilie, "what the hell was your mother doing that she knew mine?"  
  
Alicia smiled wickedly. "Precious few. Keep that in mind the next time you decide to go haring off to do something this dumb."  
  
Emilie was still in awe of actually meeting the woman that had taken on legendary status in her mother's eyes. "Mum was in the IRA when she was younger. I know what she did and because of it she had to change her name and technically drop out of the IRA. I found out about her being in the IRA and some of the things she did and I promised to never tell a soul." Emilie paused. "She wanted to name me Molly, you know."  
  
Alicia's smile softened. "It's no coincidence that my elder daughter's name is Heather." Zack almost laughed, but managed to keep his stoic expression. When they were trying to decide on a name after they found out they were having a girl, Alicia had said she wanted it to be Heather. That was the middle name of a good friend of hers, someone that she had respected a lot even though she was a norm. Zack had no objections to the name although they did switch Heather's middle name from their decided-upon Teresa to Jhondie after Heather ended up being the first child that Jhondie delivered after getting her M.D.  
  
"Think she can keep a secret?" Zack asked, his tone serious, but Alicia knew him better. He was teasing her.  
  
"If she hasn't told anyone who assassinated Prime Minister Fitch back in '18, then this shouldn't be much."  
  
"Mom!" Cameron blurted. "You did not! A militant Islamic group took credit for that one." He paused. "Did you?"  
  
"I was supposed to," Alicia admitted. "An no lectures young man, we're talking about someone who was looking at the Irish in a way that made Hitler seem tame about his Jewish policy. But after all this planning and work, I get called away at the last minute. But Amelia stepped in and took care of things and got away just as planned. I don't think I could have done a better job myself."  
  
"Mum thought you really were Irish," Emilie breathed.  
  
Alicia smirked. "I've been a lot of things in my life."  
  
There was a slight secondary rumble and Zack glanced around. "We need to get out of here." Alicia nodded. Janna and Antonio were back up. Max looked like she was going to take care of that situation. But now the kids were focused on the entryway.  
  
"I don't suppose anyone has any digging equipment," Liz said meekly, looking at the heavy rocks now blocking the entrance.  
  
Alicia snorted. "Do you really think I would let one of my children go back through that mess? The whole place has been rickety since I first saw it. We're leaving through the upper system where it's all been reinforced."  
  
Cameron's jaw dropped. "Wait a minute," he gasped out. "This astounding archeological find and you've known about it for years?"  
  
"Of course," his mother replied with a shrug. "Got to have some place for a staging area for Middle East operations." Then she sauntered off casually to the base of the outcropping, scaling the rope easily to start helping the others get up.  
  
Alicia had been serious. The rock passages turned into concrete and steel and then through long-abandoned hallways with metal doors and thick dust everywhere. They went through a circular room that looked like it was probably a gym and then another hall took them to the surface. Once the door closed behind them, there was no way to tell that the door wasn't a natural part of the stone it was cut in.  
  
From there they had separated. Antonio and Emilie were sent off; knowing that one breath of what they had seen was going to come at the cost of their lives. Emilie had an exception though. She couldn't wait to tell her mother whom she had met and said that Alicia should drop by if she were in Ireland. Alicia said she might just do that. And then came the flight home. All four kids, and to a lesser extent Jon, got the lecture of a lifetime. From Egypt to New York, they heard about what they had done, why it was stupid and all of the things that might still result. For Janna, the worst part was when her father simply looked at her and sighed, his blue eyes usually so happy to see her, this time filled with such disappointment. That was all that was needed to break her and make her sniff and say how sorry she was.  
  
The three of them swore to their parents that this last time had been the scare they needed. It was over. It had been just a lark at first to see what they could do but now it was serious. They would have been in major trouble had backup not arrived just in time. It was over. A thousand times, it was over. They were going to move back to the States and never make any kind of trouble again. Ever. So help them God and a fear of duct tape and jumper cables.  
  
Although Heather did think that her mother was going to kill her father for a moment when he was looking at the twins thoughtfully and then asked them if they had ever broken into a bank. They said no and he asked them if they wanted to. Even Aunt Max took a step back from the blue fire that shot from Mom's eyes. Dad smirked at Mom for a second and then told them how his partner, Carl, had friends in the banking industry that wanted to really be able to test security systems. They would have to give back whatever was taken and write reports. Both of the twins' faces fell at the "r" word. Heather knew what they were like in school and nothing could be a worse punishment than making them do something that they liked, and then write a report on it. It was fitting though. Mean as hell, but quite fitting.  
  
The holidays had been slightly strained. Things got back into their normal groove a little more by Christmas though. Cyra and Daniel's big announcement of an impending new arrival had helped turn the tide into something much more festive. And Janna had to admit she got a kick out of seeing the pictures that Jon and Heather had prepared for them as welcome home gifts. Had she not been an intended recipient, it was an awesome idea. Of course nothing went normally in this family. There always had to be a twist in there somewhere and this year it was both Cameron and Heather's turn.  
  
Two days after Christmas, there was a knock on the front door. Liz got it, and was stunned when Emilie strolled right on in. She was greeted warmly and told Alicia that her mother nearly had a heart attack, not that she met Molly, but that Molly had kids. Until she found out what Molly's kids were up to and then it made perfect sense. There was no mistaking the look on Cam's face when he asked her what she was doing in New York.  
  
Emilie gave him her most charming smile. "Blackmail," she replied jauntily. A hush filled the room as she pulled out a notebook. "You see, if one happened to have been doing some translations and found out that a certain Spanish ship had sunk on it's way back from the New World and that on it's sister ship there was a young woman who was a cartographer's daughter, one might realize that she could accurately describe land formations that she saw. She had helped her Papa, or so she says in her diary. Every 'expert' is in the thinking that this ship ended up being blown to the North, but according to her, they ended up to the South and where she was describing is still there to this day. So, if one were enterprising and had this bit of information and knew someone that was full of ill-gotten gains, one could put it together quite nicely."  
  
The flare of anger that had cropped on Cam's face up when Emilie used the word blackmail was turning into amusement. "Could one?" he said lightly.  
  
"One could," she replied in the same vein and then her eyes got serious. "I've got it down to barely a few square miles, Cameron," she said very softly. "Nobody's looked in the right place. Don't you dare tell me you never wanted a chance like this before."  
  
Cameron couldn't deny it. But, he did have a little problem with his family letting him out of their sight. And then there was no way that he could ever leave his...  
  
"Yeah, right, you can't," Liz snapped at him. She pointed to the door. "There's FedEx for your stuff and Swiss bank accounts can be accessed from anywhere." Their eyes met and everyone in the room knew there was a lot more said between them than what was verbalized.  
  
Still one other problem though. "Emilie," he said, "I would love to, but after everything that I've done, I'm sort of on probation right now and..."  
  
"It's okay," Alicia spoke up. Cameron blinked and looked over at his mother. Alicia glanced at Zack, got the confirmation that she needed and continued. "She's Irish, my darling son. You get out of line with her and you're going to pay far worse than anything we could think of."  
  
Emilie smiled brightly at that. "Quite right at that. And if you think you can pull those little mind games on me, then I'll get a few nips of some real Irish whiskey in you. You'll be under the nearest table and then trust me, the hell can be paid then."  
  
Cameron blushed as everyone in the room exploded into laughter. He grabbed Emilie's arm and swung her body into his, capturing her mouth with his, trying not to laugh when Cyra covered Tanya's eyes. "How does New Year's Eve in the gulf of Mexico sound?" he asked softly, finally breaking away from her.  
  
Her eyes met his. "Sounds quite bloody right to me."  
  
Cameron and Emilie were gone on New Year's Day, going to Texas to get an expedition started. It was better to do it in the winter where the weather tended to be calmer. But then it was also time for Jon to go back. He had stayed away far longer than he should have, and it was a heartbreaking sight to see Heather clinging to him at the airport, trying not to cry and ask him to stay with her forever.  
  
She almost wished right then that Chambers had kicked her out of HRT or something. Then she would have quit altogether and gone with Jon. But Chambers heard about their adventures and actually got a laugh out of it. He had actually been the one to find that central cavern in the Egypt base and had never thought anything of it. Too funny. In the end, the decision was simple. He would continue to be tough on her like he was to all rookies, but she would be used so that she could augment her teams subtly with her extra skills. And nothing was to ever be mentioned about X- anything. He had met back up with Alicia, as she explained to Xander why he better never, ever pull a stunt like that again with her children . Ty could only marvel. So many years, and some things hadn't changed a bit.  
  
So instead of defiantly taking off with Jon, Heather was going to have to let him go. The tears she had held back gamely began to fall when it was time for him to get on his plane. "Don't cry," Jon had murmured, "it's not forever."  
  
"I know," she sniffed. "We're going to make it work, just with the expansion you're not going to have as much time. That's okay though. We'll deal, right?"  
  
"Right," he said softly. And then his eyes had lit up devilishly. "Besides, once you get used to taking long flights across the Atlantic, Virginia to Pennsylvania isn't going to be hard at all."  
  
Heather's whole face was a question mark. "Where to what?"  
  
"I told you it was an expansion, just not how big," he said with a grin. "At the time you were still in Chicago and I don't know...if we were both in the States, then I started thinking things might get weird, but you know you had a boyfriend, and I had a stick figure and I don't know..."  
  
"Jon..." she breathed, her heart pounding at what she thought he was saying.  
  
"A lot of people don't want to go to Aspen to ski," he said, picking up a snobby tone. "Aspen is so, "done". They want to go somewhere more exclusive. Somewhere that when a place is special for them, it's not right next door to another special place." Jon caressed her face lightly, voice returning to normal. "One year. It's going to be crazy and I won't be able to see you much when I fly over here to oversee some things, but one year from now and the expansion is going to be complete. And I think I'll be able to find a competent manager to oversee the place in the summer while I'm in Virginia."  
  
"And I think I'll be stocking up on Dramamine for all of the flying to Pennsylvania during the winter," Heather said, her eyes shining. There might have been more to say, but her arms were around his neck and the kiss that followed made the entire rest of the world seem totally unimportant.  
  
The only one who didn't come out of this mess with someone special was Liz, Janna thought as she drove up the final way to Antonio's home. But she had her Ferrari and was already planning her first solo break in for her dad. She said she didn't care. If she could find someone that wouldn't try to get between her and her Ferrari, then she would give him a second look, but in the meantime, she was good.  
  
Janna was wondering how good she was. This was pretty nuts. Her parents thought she was crazy and her mother wanted to take the necklace back herself and be done with it. Oddly enough it was her dad that understood why she had to do this. More to the point, he understood why Antonio wanted her to do this. So here she was with a fortune in her purse at the place where she had helped steal it from. As an invited guest. Too weird. Just too weird.  
  
Antonio answered the door, drinking her in with those incredible dark eyes. No more cute little suits for her. He had been right thinking that such things were Jaqui only. Her blouse was nice enough, but she looked so much more comfortable in jeans. "You really are here," he greeted, his words a caress on her skin.  
  
"Girl's got to keep her word," Janna replied, a trembling smile touching her mouth.  
  
They were in each other's arms in a second. All of the behavioral etiquette that Antonio had been taught about how to act in front of servants was gone in a flash as their lips met, the softness of her body pressing into his. A maid entered, froze for a moment, her eyes wide, and then slipped out quietly and completely unnoticed. Had a blast of cold air not come through the open door, then chances of them ending up on the marble floor of the entryway would have been quite high.  
  
Both of them gasped with the sudden rush of cold air, which made them, break apart slightly. Janna grinned up at Antonio. "You certainly know how to make a guest feel welcome," she teased.  
  
Antonio shut the front door and then took her into his arms again, relishing how she was just tall enough so that her head could rest right on his shoulder. "I would hate for this visit to be anything like your first," he said softly, making Janna laugh.  
  
She patted the large purse hanging against her hip. "Trust me, everything is different this time." She had to admit that she was torn on if she could just stand there for a while watching him or if maybe they could go straight up to his bedroom. He was wearing slacks and a golf shirt, but somehow he just made casual look so good. This was just so not right. She barely knew him. So what if they had already made love once. That could be discounted as a weird situation. But she had missed him fiercely while she was in New York.  
  
Janna glanced around, trying to look at anything but Antonio. "It's beautiful," she said, indicating the house. "Camera just doesn't do it justice."  
  
"Would you like a tour?" Antonio asked with a devilish glint in his eyes, "or do you already know your way around."  
  
Janna glared at him playfully for a second. "I know you might not remember, wallowing on the ground in agony that you were, but I was a little busy walloping squirrels to get the full tour."  
  
Antonio laughed and offered her his arm which she took gladly as he showed her the ballroom and grand reception and dining room. Janna loved the huge library. When she was young, she wanted more than anything to be able to slide around a room on the ladders attached to the bookshelves that went to the ceiling. Had it not been slightly rude, she might have tried seeing if it was really as fun as she had seen in a hundred kids movies. He told her what he knew about the history and she surprised him when she filled him in on quite a few of the antiques and the paintings. He just knew that most of the stuff had been there for generations and it was important in a sentimental sort of way. There were quite a few changes that he would have liked to make, but his mother would have fainted at the mention and it wasn't that important to him. He had an office on the first floor that was his domain and his mother had sighed and moaned over his refusal to use this antique desk or lamp, but, much like his private rooms upstairs, as long as guests didn't see them, she could handle it.  
  
The family suites were on the second and third stories. There were a dozen guest rooms that were unoccupied and a large room that Antonio said had once been a nursery filled with some covered furniture and sealed boxes and a beautifully handmade rocking horse. There were, obviously, no children to fill it for now, but one day it would be nice if that were to change. When he said that, Janna thought her heart was going to jump out of her chest. It wasn't the words. Most people wanted kids. It was just the warmth in his eyes and the sudden image she got of what a child of theirs might look like. She tried to scold herself, but the thought alone was enough to take the chill off a warm night. Antonio noticed the slight blush that rose to the golden cream of her skin, but said nothing.  
  
"Does the whole family usually live here?" Janna asked when Antonio pointed out his mother's suite after they passed his sister's rooms. The door to his mother's suite was tightly shut and Antonio had explained that she was recovering from her trip and it was best not to disturb her for a few days while she did her beauty regime that de-aged or whatever that meant. Louisa had left with some friends for a few days. Pity. Antonio would have liked her to meet Janna.  
  
"Sometimes," he replied. "Younger sons in old times were expected to marry well and receive a manor of their own in the dowry. Daughters lived with their husbands on their estates. Now, the heir of course lives here, and the younger children are free to do as they wish. Louisa moved out for a few years and lived with a friend in Venice, but when that relationship ended, she chose to come home."  
  
The third floor was uncomfortably familiar. That was where the twins had broken in and Janna knew every inch of the layout. If Antonio knew, he didn't say anything. He pointed out the door to his rooms, but to Janna's surprise he didn't ask if she would like to see them. She only caught a glimpse of a sitting room through the partially opened door, and then he swept her to another door that was locked. It wasn't where the necklace had been kept either. Weird.  
  
Antonio led her up a short flight of stairs and Janna noticed that this was one area that was actually unkempt. There was dust on the handrail of the stairs in a house where she had not seen so much as a fingerprint smudging any of the glass. Antonio unlocked another door at the top of the stairs and led her in. Janna didn't have to be told that whatever this room is, it was special to him.  
  
The room was a long rectangle, dominated by a large window that looked over the forest beyond the estate. Dust motes danced in the air, made visible by the afternoon sunshine streaming in. The wood floor was dusty, but Janna could tell that once it had been well taken care of and polished to a shine. Then a row of art easels against the far wall caught her eye. Reverently, she went to them, aware that Antonio was watching her from the door, but unable to stop herself from sliding back a sheet and staring at the half-finished painting still on the easel.  
  
The picture was that of a young woman, standing on a mountain ledge, reaching out to the point where she must topple over with just another inch of stretching. The expression on the woman's face was so tragically poignant that Janna could almost feel her agony as she reached for something she could never have. And then Janna noticed the strong resemblances between her and the picture of Louisa that she had seen earlier. Janna looked up at Antonio, one eyebrow raised in question.  
  
"My great-grandmother's room," he answered quietly, walking over to her to observe the painting. "She was a gifted painter. She did the paintings downstairs of my great-grandfather and both of my father's parents."  
  
"She seems so sad," Janna breathed, her eyes still focusing on the painting, catching the tiny teardrops on the woman's face and the way she was standing as if the act of drawing in a breath was too painful for words.  
  
"She was not well in her mind for many years until she finally died," Antonio explained. "She had five children and her eldest son had been accepted to Oxford. The other children, two boys and two girls thought it would be fun to accompany him and help him get settled in. When they were supposed to leave, her second son was ill and could not go. The other four went and there was a terrible plane crash and they were all killed. The bodies of her elder son and youngest daughter were never recovered and she always thought that one day they would come home."  
  
"She put it all in here." Janna could understand what it was like to vent emotions onto a canvas.  
  
"She spent much of her time up here, painting, but rarely finishing. I was ten when she died and I can remember one night a few weeks before her death when she dragged me out of bed and up here. I was terrified at this old woman that was only marginally sane dragging me off. She had ten easels lined up and demanded that I look at the paintings on them. At first all I could see was random lines on each one but she kept insisting. And then suddenly I saw it. If you layered the paintings on top of each other, they would form a complete picture. I told her what I saw and she smiled. And then..." he broke off his words, before completing what the old woman had said that he must marry an artist.  
  
"And then?"  
  
"And then she let me go back to bed," Antonio finished, trying to sound perfectly natural. "When she died, I actually felt as if the family had lost a treasure it didn't know it had."  
  
Janna was still contemplating the blank part of the canvas, unable to keep her fingertips from brushing against the blank area, the rest of the picture forming in her mind. "Does anyone ever come up here?"  
  
"Luisa has a key. We used to come up here when we were younger and try to scare each other with ghost stories. Mother thought about changing this room to a family reception room of a sort but I refused to let her. It didn't seem right and she couldn't deal with both of her children putting their foot down."  
  
"There needs to be lots of foliage over here," Janna murmured. "Green. Life. Garden of Eden kind of colors and lushness. Reaching for her, but not able to touch."  
  
"Had I known you would like to finish this, I would have had paints up here. Hers dried out and were thrown away years ago."  
  
Janna blinked and glanced up at Antonio, color suffusing her cheeks. "I didn't mean..." she stammered. "I'm just one of those artists that can't stop. I get a blank piece of paper; I'm sketching on it. I see an unfinished canvas, then I'm thinking of how it should be done."  
  
Antonio chuckled. "You did not offend me. Maybe it is time for these to be completed." His fingers caressed her face lightly. "I am not sure why, but I would like to watch you paint one day."  
  
Janna's eyes narrowed. "The only way someone gets to watch me is if they're modeling."  
  
Antonio pulled her closer, his dark eyes gleaming devilishly. "I could probably have some paints delivered in an hour." Janna's breath caught for a second and then she realized that he was teasing her. They both laughed. For now, Janna thought. One day she was going to pin him down and sketch him, just the way he looked standing in the doorway of this room, leaning back casually, arms crossed, secure in himself and the world around him.  
  
"But I think there's something that we need to do first," Janna said softly. Antonio nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. His hand caught hers and they walked out of the room, making sure the door was locked behind them.  
  
"So you don't have any other brothers or sisters?" Janna asked as they walked down the long hallway.  
  
"I had a younger brother, Sabatino. He died a few days after he was born from a congenital heart defect. I suppose my parents decided that it would be too painful to try again." He looked at her curiously. "Do you have any? I only met cousins."  
  
That question caught Janna. "You saying you haven't done a ton of research on my family in the last few weeks?"  
  
"After what I found out already, there didn't seem to be much more to dig up."  
  
Janna blinked. It hit her suddenly. He didn't know. She had been a little worried that he was willing to be nice to her now and forgive because of the whole Cale Enterprises thing. But she had no doubt that he had no clue about her father's family. "I'm an only child," she answered softly. "My mom, after one of her adventures when she was young, and trust me, if half of what I've heard is correct, then I'm pretty tame in comparison, but she ended up with this implant thing in her neck that had done some stuff to her nervous system. They think that's why her first three pregnancies ended up miscarrying. The third one was really bad and had my aunt not been there, she's a trauma surgeon, Mom probably would have died."  
  
"And she still tried again?"  
  
"I was a serious accident. My Dad had gotten a vasectomy to make sure that there wouldn't be any accidents, but in rare cases, spontaneous regeneration can occur and well, surprise. Mom's doctor told her to have an abortion so the miscarriage would be under controlled circumstances and she wouldn't be endangering herself." Janna laughed. "If there is one thing that you do not do in this world, it's to tell my mother she has to do anything." Antonio laughed. After meeting Max, he could believe that. "Anyways, four months was when she had lost the others and it came and went with no problems. She told me that this time, she had just known that I was going to be born and she was right. Personally, I'm rather pleased with her decision to tell the doctor where to stick it and try one last time."  
  
"Oddly enough, so am I," Antonio said as they reached another locked door.  
  
Janna's forehead wrinkled. "Locked now?"  
  
"Temporarily," Antonio replied, unlocking the door. "Neither my mother or sister knows what I brought back with me, so I am having the display redone as a surprise to them. They think it's a new security measure being installed." As they entered the unobtrusive side door into the jewel room, Janna saw the large arched entry had been blocked off and there were a few signs left of construction. Another day of clean up and it was going to be back to normal.  
  
The display had been changed. Antonio had the found necklace cleaned and it now rested on the black velvet, a space beside its mate. Carved in the stone behind the necklace were the words that had been carved in the stone above Diego's body. The smaller pieces of family jewelry elegantly surrounded the two centerpieces. Antonio opened a false stone beside the glass and keyed in a code, lowering the glass.  
  
Janna dug through her bag to the bottom and then pulled out a flat case. She opened it and the stolen necklace gleamed against the red velvet interior. "Was it difficult to get it back in the country?" Antonio asked.  
  
Janna shrugged. "Not especially. But then I do have a little bit of practice."  
  
"I suppose you would." He took the necklace out of the case, fingering the stones. "What did it look like on you?"  
  
Janna looked mock offended, picking up her Jaqui voice. "Wear something that is not my own? That would not be professional." She smiled, dropping the accent. "This may sound weird, but it wasn't mine and I didn't have permission."  
  
"You have a very odd sense of scruples." Antonio hesitated for a moment and then slid up behind Janna, letting the diamonds fall around her neck. Instinctively, Janna swept her dark curls to the side while he fastened the clip. There was a large gold-framed mirror on one wall and Antonio escorted Janna to it, looking over her shoulder, his arms wrapped lightly around her waist.  
  
"Amazing," he murmured in her ear, making her shiver slightly. "I've seen this necklace on my mother and grandmother and even once my great- grandmother. This is the first time I have ever seen someone wear it that flattered the necklace instead of it flattering them."  
  
Janna was trembling slightly. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. Antonio looked startled. She turned around, still in the circle of his arms, her eyes meeting his slowly. "I am sorry for everything," she repeated. "I mean, yeah, I gave it back, but I am sorry for everything I put you through in the meantime. It's my fault you ended up in so much danger and I'm the one that asked Liz to take that statue, and it got broke, so that's on me as well, and...and..."  
  
Her words were cut off with a kiss. Janna couldn't get enough of the sweetness and comfort offered by that long, passionate kiss. She was just glad that he didn't let her go or else she would have ended up oozing to the floor. They finally separated and Janna was reminded of the moment on the golf course when he admitted that he had cared, worried that Marco had injured her.  
  
"My father died when I was 22," Antonio whispered, his face still mere inches from hers. "I could not go to graduate school like I planned since I had to come home and take over the family. Mother was not capable and Luisa was still in college herself. Since then I knew that my first priority had to be taking care of the family and one of the things that I was supposed to do was meet and marry the right sort of woman and ensure the line went on. I have met women of nobility all over the world and not one was worth a second glance."  
  
"And then all of sudden, there was you. You hit me with a stick, stole a family heirloom, lied to me, refused to tell me your name, ate all of my popcorn, kneed me, threw golf clubs at me and still, I have never been so scared in my life as I was when I thought you might be injured. I am not sorry at all for what happened. So what about the statue? It served its purpose. It led to a treasure beyond compare. You. I am well aware of how wrong it is to feel like this for someone I should despise. But I have had time to think about it and what I know is that I do not care. Whatever happened, happened and how can I complain with what I have received from it?"  
  
Gently he brushed a tear off of her cheek. Janna sniffed. "I missed you," she admitted. "Isn't that insane? I should be digging a hole and hiding from you for the rest of my life but I can't imagine trying to live it now and never see you again."  
  
"You don't have to." Antonio stepped back, still keeping her hands in his. "I would like it very much if you would stay for a while or however long you can." His eyes were hypnotically serious. "Janna, I..."  
  
Things got rather jumbled from then until Janna was back in the cold winter air. A dozen men were suddenly flooding the room, grabbing Janna roughly and yanking her back. Her Italian wasn't great, but she knew words like "police" and "do not move". Cold metal was locked around her wrists and over in the entryway that had been smashed open, Marco stood, an icy grin curving his mouth and behind him an older woman stood triumphantly. Janna caught one last glance at Antonio as the necklace was pulled from her neck by one of the policemen. Antonio had the nerve to look shocked. Maybe they had come in sooner than expected. Her eyes closed to blot out the sight and then she was being shoved into the back of a police car and taken away, the estate dwindling to nothing behind them. 


	37. Final Decisions

"Moping about is not going to be a solution to your problem."  
  
"Go away."  
  
Luisa glided from the door of their great-grandmother's studio over to where her brother stood next to the large window. He had done nothing but mope for two days straight now. Antonio was a man of action. He would do what he wanted and typically get what he wanted. He did not sit about and sulk in depression. And Mother was afraid to go near him now. She had tried to explain why she ordered Marco to call the police after he came to her, telling her what the new maid saw her son doing and with whom he was doing it. Antonio had merely given her a single look and she retreated to her bed with a violent headache.  
  
"After you tell her that it wasn't you and you tell a court this was all a mistake, why do you think she is going to be upset?"  
  
"You do not know her. Go away Luisa."  
  
Most people would obey that particular tone. It once worked on Luisa as well until around the age of twelve. She put her hand on his shoulder instead of fleeing the room. "Antonio, I listened to what Marco had to say. He is convinced that she must be a witch to so have you at her defense. I think he is a fool and you are not. So why is it that you are so convinced of her innocence despite her own words?"  
  
Antonio gazed out onto the trees surrounding them. It used to always be a scene that would act as a balm when his soul was troubled. It wasn't working this time. "She brought it back," he whispered. Luisa 's eyes widened. It was the first time since the arrest that he had admitted that Janna was guilty of anything. "She could have kept it and I would never have said a word. I wanted to know what she wanted more. And when she brought it back, I knew then. So now I have a pile of stones and metal. I will never have her again."  
  
Luisa and her brother had always been close. For years, he was the only person that knew she preferred women to men. Their father would have disowned her and Mother...well, Mother brought one doctor after the next in to cure Luisa until Antonio put a stop to it. The two of them had rarely kept a secret from the other and now she knew without a doubt that this girl had struck him in a way that no other woman had. And it had nothing to do with knocking him out cold. Of course, after meeting Janna's cousin Heather, Luisa knew what was so intriguing about the women in that family. There was something indefinable that made them absolutely yummy.  
  
"You fell in love with her," Luisa accused gently. "You knew what she had done but you fell in love with her anyways."  
  
There was a long period of silence. Finally Antonio pounded the glass lightly with his fist in frustration and turned to face his sister. "You would not believe how cautious I was. I had all of the plans made. If I wasn't back in a certain length of time, if there was the slightest problem, I had that contingency plan in place. But then she wasn't the cold, calculating person I thought she would be. She was warm and funny and lost her temper and would not cower no matter the situation. I was prepared for any circumstance but one. And that was the one that happened."  
  
"Go to her right now," Luisa urged. "Tell her it was a big mistake and that you are going to tell Mother that she has no right to try and press charges and that it was a bodyguard's idiocy that led to this. She will be angry, but when you prove what you meant by telling the court that it was a mistake, and Mother listens to you when you get angry with her, then how can Janna stay mad?"  
  
"I can't get to her," Antonio snapped. He blew out a breath. "I tried to contact her, but her lawyer is none other than Santino Adamari himself. Nobody may speak to her without his presence."  
  
Luisa whistled low at the lawyer's name. He had defended some of the big names in the Mafia and won acquittals for them. "How can she afford him? Or get him for that matter?"  
  
Antonio shrugged. "It's possible that they worked for him at some point. The man has a rather large personal collection of art. And I believe that there was a great deal of money that they earned that is in anonymous accounts. One of Janna's associates probably has access to those funds and are making sure the money is there."  
  
He shook his head. "Besides, Mother is not backing down on prosecuting Janna. Marco is behind her, telling her that a child cannot rule its parents and that she must do this to be independent. Janna will never trust me even if she goes free for the fact that she will assume it's because we are trying to get all of them and not just her. She will leave and never come back."  
  
Luisa thought for a moment and then smiled at her brother, slightly bemused. "The answer is simple," she finally said.  
  
Antonio rolled his eyes at her. "You cannot have a chance at her just because I ruined mine."  
  
Luisa laughed. "For someone who is so intelligent, my darling brother, you can truly be an idiot. Who owns that necklace?"  
  
"It belongs to Mother," Antonio said, getting more annoyed by the moment at his sister's secretive little smirk.  
  
"Wrong!" she practically sang out. "Since you are so upset right now, I will give you another chance." She repeated the question, spacing out the words for emphasis. "Who...owns...the...necklace?"  
  
It was as if a light had gone off in a dark room. Antonio looked up sharply, his sister's smile widening, becoming almost feline. "Her parents are here," he breathed out. "I am going to need their help for this to work."  
  
"There isn't much time."  
  
Antonio grabbed his sister and kissed her cheeks. "And why are you so intent on helping me?" he asked suspiciously. "There's going to be hell to pay when Mother finds out."  
  
Luisa grinned. "You described some of the women in her family and I met the one cousin. My God, it should be a crime for so much beauty to rest in one family. My price to you is that you must find out if there are any women of my persuasion and if there are, I get to meet them soon. This is not negotiable."  
  
Antonio grinned back. "I should say that the price is well worth the prize." And then he was running out the door. There wasn't much time. Luisa was right about that. But if there were a chance, the slightest chance, then it would be worth it.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Max opened the door of her hotel room to give whomever was banging frantically on it a piece of her mind. She had way too much on her mind right then with her daughter being behind bars to be talking to some freaked chambermaid wanting to know if they got the right number of towels or some fool thing like that. She opened the door, the identity of the man standing on the other side taking a moment to register, and then she slammed it shut again without saying a word.  
  
Antonio blinked. That kind of greeting must run in the family, he thought as he began knocking again.  
  
The door practically flew back off of its hinges as Max yanked it open again, chocolate fire leaping from her eyes. "Did you not get the hint?" she snarled.  
  
"Mrs. Cale," Antonio tried to get out, but Max cut him off dead, one hand in the air.  
  
"No," she snapped. "The only noise I want to be from you is the sound of your ass hitting the pavement. And the longer you standing in front of me the greater your chances getting of learning the meaning of definistration."  
  
Antonio had to admit, he was feeling a little intimidated. He had seen this women slap around a man twice her size without the slightest effort on her part. And her brother had snapped a human neck with one hand. He swallowed, trying to get down the lump in his throat and only partially succeeding. "You can throw me out a hundred times," he said in a low voice, "but I will keep coming back until you hear what I must say."  
  
"Max, who is it?" a man's voice called out from behind her. Max didn't glance backwards, her eyes bent on Antonio.  
  
Antonio felt a little better when another man came up behind Max that seemed vaguely familiar to Antonio. He seemed to be about ten years older than her and then Antonio recognized him from Janna's description. Her father. He had to be. Her mother was nuts and her father was the rational one. This could help his case or her father could coolly decide to kill him and his wife would be more than happy to help.  
  
"Just the boy that got some serious nerve showing his face here after playing our daughter," she finally said. Max crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. "You got two seconds to explain why I don't toss your lying ass out of the nearest window."  
  
"Because I know how to get her out without anyone thinking that she paid her way out of trouble," Antonio said quickly. Max didn't change expression, but her husband did.  
  
"So?" she snapped.  
  
"Let him in," Logan said quietly. Max whipped around on him, ready to do some serious battle. "We've been lucky so far about keeping things quiet," he added. "A media circus isn't going to do anyone good."  
  
Media attention wouldn't be good for a bunch of transgenics, Antonio thought as Max stepped away from the door and let him into the hotel room. It could be more on the dangerous side than anything. Max sauntered over to the sitting area, grabbing a chair and flipping it around so that she could sit in it backwards, her eyes still snapping angrily at him.  
  
"Mr. And Mrs. Cale," Antonio said, taking a breath, "this was not meant to happen."  
  
"You damn right about that," Max shot back. She looked like she had plenty more to say on the subject, but a look from her husband quieted her for a minute at least.  
  
"I swear to you that I did not ask her to come back so that she could be arrested," Antonio explained. "I know that is hard to believe right now, but it is the truth. Janna was recognized by one of my employees, a man that I had with me when I was trying to find the necklace that was stolen. He assumed he knew better than I and the police were called."  
  
"I'm sure you can understand why that's a little hard to accept that you were planning on letting Janna just walk away but instead she ended up in jail," Logan said smoothly.  
  
Antonio's eyes dropped. "I didn't want her to just walk away," he said softly. He didn't notice the look that Janna's parents exchanged. There was no mistaking the look on that boy's face right then. Max had to bite back a smile. She was going to be getting it tonight about passing on way too many traits to their daughter.  
  
"If you care about our daughter so much, why were charges pressed against her?" Logan questioned, his tone becoming rougher.  
  
"It...it's been a mess," Antonio admitted. "And until I was reminded of something earlier today, I thought that there wasn't anything I could do except deny that Janna was involved in anything. They would be hard- pressed to convict her of anything when the person that would know the most does not believe she is involved." His eyes met Logan's. "But I know her well enough to know that will not be enough. Not to her. And I refuse to accept that there is nothing that I can do to change things."  
  
"So sit down and tell us what this plan of yours is."  
  
It took a surprisingly short amount of time to explain his idea and how it would work, but he had no doubt that it would only work with their support. Yes, it was strange and he understood how they wouldn't see the wisdom in it, but he knew it would work and that it was the right thing to do. There was no question of that and he was able to explain to her parents why he was so sure of that as well.  
  
When he was done, Max glanced over at Logan. "And I thought you were the tops on the creepy invites," she said, reminding him of how he had gotten her to come back to his penthouse after she had broken in the first time. Max looked doubtful. "Logan, I don't know about getting the boy's back on this one."  
  
"I am not asking for you to insist or force, but to..." Antonio's words trailed off and he looked at Janna's father closer. Logan. Logan Cale. Holy Mother.  
  
"Cale Enterprises?" Antonio questioned, his shock giving away that he had previously not had an inkling of an idea of what family Janna was part of. Logan nodded. Antonio could only bury his head in his hands for a moment. Not a big deal. She was merely from a family whose fortunes made his family look like a group of paupers. "She's not going to spend a day in prison no matter what I do," he finally said flatly.  
  
"It's not that we want Janna to escape punishment for what she's done," Logan said, "but because of her unique heritage, she would be a prime target for anyone that might be looking for transgenic technology. There have been a few scares before in the family. Having her locked away would only increase her chances of being a target."  
  
"My baby did wrong and I'm still not happy with her over the whole dealio, but she's not getting sliced and diced for it, you know?" Max added.  
  
Antonio was still trying to assimilate it. "Why was she stealing?" he finally blurted out. "I thought at first it was for money, but...I cannot imagine the heiress to Cale Enterprises ever knowing what it is like to not have all the money she could ever want."  
  
Logan looked at his wife meaningfully. "She didn't get it from my side of the family."  
  
"Let's not talk about the hacking deal," came the quick reply. She looked back at Antonio. "Janna never mentioned anything about the family business?"  
  
"Nothing to indicate how vast it was."  
  
Max gave him a long searching stare. Then for the first time since he had arrived, she smiled. Logan quietly took her hand, giving his blessing on what she had to say. "You still going to get your ass bitch-slapped a few times, you know that right? But when that's done and over, me and her daddy here, we got your back."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It was amazing that Jaqui could be there even without the accent, Janna thought to herself as she was taken into a courtroom. The poise and the self-confidence had stayed even if Janna herself wanted to scream and cry and throw a god almighty temper tantrum every hour on the hour.  
  
It was that poise that had gotten her through five and a half hours of interrogation. Of course she did have a lawyer, much to the dismay of the Italian police. Janna thought that someone must have owed her father a favor. They couldn't stop the arrest, but they could notify him. And nobody could get things done like Logan Cale when he was in the mood. They had barely gotten Janna through the door of the police station when an extremely well dressed man breezed in and announced that he was her lawyer. Janna wasn't sure who he was really, but the cops were impressed. During the interrogation, Janna learned why. The man was really a shark in a silk suit.  
  
Having him there made the process go easier. They weren't about to try and physically abuse her with him present and once they learned about what family she was from, they were doubly careful. "The Truth" was popular in Europe as well and that magazine would have been rather vicious if the daughter of the co-owner and editor was injured in their care. But spending that long being questioned relentlessly was still a grueling process. Janna was glad that somehow Jaqui had shown up and taken control. For most of it she sat quietly, looking bored even as her lawyer spoke for her.  
  
Finally, after hours, she got fed up enough. "Gentlemen," she said firmly, making everyone in the room stare at her with her snotty-brat tone. "We can discuss all this circumstantial crap later. There's just one little thing that nobody has bothered to address." She paused dramatically. "I'm rich," she said emphatically. "Filthy, stinking, hatefully rich. I have trust funds for my trust funds. So, why on earth would I steal anything? If I wanted it, I would have told my daddy and he would have bought me ten of them." She leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed.  
  
"You fled back to America after the thefts!" one of the policemen accused.  
  
Janna rolled her eyes. "Aunt Cindy's girlfriend has this little eclectic bistro place out in Seattle," she said truthfully. "It's this café with a gallery thing. Really trendy there. I am an artist. Tamara put a couple of my pieces in her showroom and it sold. One of the people that bought a painting loved it, saw some of my other stuff, loved it and wants me to do a display in her gallery." That was actually true. Janna had been so excited about it when her mother had told her on the flight back to New York and that was the only thing that was tearing her from being able to stay for a long visit with Antonio.  
  
The questioning didn't go on much longer after that. They knew they weren't going to be able to get Janna to confess and her lawyer was far too brilliant to allow anything to slip out. So now she was being dragged in front of a judge for some pre-trial thing. And it was all in Italian, of course. Her lawyer was doing all of the talking and said he was going to use the language thing to make sure that she didn't have to answer any questions. Janna didn't care what he had to say. After the thrilling experience of being deloused, prison had lost its glamour and she wanted to go home now.  
  
Antonio's mother was in the courtroom sitting next to a smirking Marco, but her parents weren't. That wasn't good. Maybe they were talking to someone that could get her released. Knowing Mom, she was casing the place and planning a jailbreak tonight. Yeah, right. The first thing her mother told her when she saw her was not to expect help from special quarters. Zack and Alicia had told the twins that if they got out of sight of the shoreline of the US, both of them were going to be drowned like kittens. They believed. They weren't coming. Janna didn't blame them.  
  
The proceeding started when the door flew open with a flat bang and Antonio strode down the center aisle with his customary arrogant confidence. Janna went to give him her best dirty look, but her jaw nearly hit the ground to see her parents walk in right behind him. That was unexpected.  
  
"Forgive the intrusion," Antonio said jovially. "But I am afraid there has been a terrible misunderstanding."  
  
"Antonio!" his mother cried out, standing and fanning herself.  
  
He barely spared her a look, but the one he did nearly burned her skin. "Sit!" he commanded firmly and then turned back to the judge. "I am very sorry to have been the cause of such a waste of time, but you see, no crime was ever committed."  
  
Marco tried to stand up and object, say anything, but an iron grip clamped on his shoulder, shoving him back in his seat as he felt the bones in his shoulder grind together painfully. He glanced up to see a woman standing over him, so much an older version of that thief up front that there was no mistaking her but to be the mother.  
  
"You do not want to interrupt," Max said softly. "'Cause Janna told me how you tried to go all godfather on her and do that nail thing. I don't appreciate. And what she did to you is sweet dreams to what I can do." All it took was that little smirk of superiority to go along with the grinding pain now running down his arm and Marco had no doubts that this woman was capable of all she claimed and more.  
  
In the front of the room, the judge was confused. "How is it possible there was no crime committed?" As a matter of fact everyone was confused, including the lawyer and Janna once he translated. Janna thought that was what Antonio had said, but she wasn't sure.  
  
Antonio smiled. "There was no crime because the necklace was never stolen. That is why I did not seem concerned that it would be gone forever. The necklace was in fact with its owner."  
  
"You had it?"  
  
"No, sir," Antonio corrected the judge. "The necklace does not belong to my mother as she has said or even to me. It belongs to my contessa." His eyes lingered on Janna as he spoke those words and there was no doubt she understood exactly what he had just said.  
  
His mother let out a noise that would most appropriately be described as the wailing of the damned as Janna leapt to her feet. "OH HELL NO!" she shouted at him. "You think I don't know what you just said? Let me tell you this. I would rather falsely confess to everything they're accusing me of and spend the rest of my life in the deepest, darkest cell in the worst Italian dungeon, you clear on that?"  
  
The judge was slamming his gavel trying to regain order. Lina di LiCossa had nearly fainted in her chair and Janna's lawyer was desperately trying to keep his client from jumping the young man at the center of the storm. Janna shot her parents a glance and it was obvious that they knew that he was going to say something like this. Mom had that look that clearly said she had just done something bad and was enjoying the hell out of it.  
  
"Conte!" the judge finally said. "Exactly what are you trying to say?"  
  
Antonio strode forward as if none of this was a bother. "I am saying that Janna never stole a necklace. It will soon enough be hers and she knew she could take it if she wanted it. I bragged that it could not be taken without my permission and she said she could prove otherwise. Her cousins work for a company that tests security systems for banks in America. With their help, she proved me quite wrong. But I knew who had it, so I was not worried. Keeping it for a few weeks was her way of teasing me."  
  
Janna wasn't screaming. She was doing a good job of figuring out the Italian, but she figured that she must be way off somewhere in the translation. There was no way on earth that he was saying what she thought he was saying. But the judge was suddenly looking more amused than confused and it really explained Mom's smirk.  
  
"You and the defendant are to be married?" the judge finally asked. Lina burst into tears, grabbing her rosary.  
  
Janna snorted, about to say a few things that nobody in that room would ever forget, when a hand touched her shoulder. She glanced back and her father was standing there. "I know you're angry," Logan said calmly. "But you need to listen. He faced down your mother for you, princess."  
  
If there was one thing Janna hated, it was when her father was reasonable. It was the one thing Mom couldn't get around either. Dad was just really good at it. Came from years of interviewing a lot of people and trying to give an impartial report of events, she supposed. But the man would make so much sense, people just wanted to believe him. No wonder he made such an awesome Eyes Only. Janna still wanted to kick him in the shin though. Or at least have a nice long pout.  
  
Antonio glanced over his shoulder at Janna and his mother and then back at the judge. He was standing at the bench now and let out a small breath. "My mother and fiancée," he said low so that only the judge could hear him. "Mother did not know Janna and I had decided to make things official." His expression said more about the situation than words could. The judge's stern façade nearly cracked. He had been married for thirty-six years and for thirty-two of them learned exactly what it was like to go through what this young man was experiencing already. A sobbing mother and that young woman didn't look like she was going to forgive all this easily.  
  
"I am going to allow you to adjourn to my chambers for a bit so that this can be discussed properly," the judge said, standing.  
  
Janna would have much preferred to put Antonio in a world of hurt, but her parents were coming in with them and she knew there was no way that they were going to let her to do him what she really wanted. The judge had decided to allow them a few moments of privacy with the family to get this worked out. He had been a magistrate for a long time and he had seen much, but this had to be one of the most humorous cases he had presided over. He knew what the police had gone through with that young woman. He felt sorry for the Conte.  
  
In the chambers, Max and Logan were standing on one side of the room while Lina sank into a chair on the other side. She was a frail-looking woman and seemed to be on the verge of collapse. Janna dropped herself in one of the chairs in front of the judge's massive desk, crossing her arms and glaring at Antonio.  
  
"Forget it," she snapped. "I don't know what your sick little game is, but it's not happening. What? Someone put a scare into you? Make you regret what you did? Good. But I don't care now. There's no proof. I would have walked anyways."  
  
"Janna, calm down and listen to him," Max commanded.  
  
Janna jumped out of her chair, whirling around on her mother. "Calm down?" she shouted. "It's been a while since it's happened to you, so I'll give you a refresher. Getting played sucks. I don't care if you think I deserve it." She had to paused for a second, trying to fight back tears. Her voice dropped. "It still sucks."  
  
Lina finally had gathered her composure. "My son, I forbid you from mixing your blood with a common harlot's," she declared firmly. She stood up, chin lifted firmly. "You will have to accept that it is my duty to the family to make sure the line stay pure and not mixed with such...such low breeding."  
  
Antonio very calmly stepped up to his mother before Janna's mother could hurt her while explaining why her daughter was not to be called a harlot. Had he just done this a few days before when Janna first got arrested, he would only have to deal with one of them, and not have to try and convince Janna that he didn't take part in it. "Mother," he said gently, "I love and respect you as my parent. But you will respect my decision on this. I do not care what is best for the family or what titles need to be brought into it. Not this time."  
  
Janna was planning on an angry retort at being called a harlot, but Antonio's response had diffused that for some reason. He sounded...sincere. Logan caught the slight change in Janna and took Max's hand and glanced meaningfully at the door. She wasn't thrilled, but she gave him a tiny nod in agreement.  
  
"You and Janna need to talk," Logan said evenly, ignoring Janna's look of alarm. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with him. "We'll leave you alone to work this out."  
  
Antonio gave him a tight smile. "Thank you." His eyes met his mother's. "I think it would be best if you would wait for us in the hall now, mother."  
  
Her mouth opened to say something, but it snapped shut again until his stern glare. She turned and left the room with Logan and Max, glaring at them as the door shut behind them. "That girl will not get her hands on my son's fortune," she spat out bitterly. "I will make sure of a contract before they are married."  
  
Logan's eyebrows rose. "Of course there will be," he said firmly. "Janna's the sole heir of Cale Enterprises and my half of "The Truth". What she does with it will be her business. But it won't be yours." He smirked. "By the way, I'm Logan Cale and this is my wife, Max." When Lina practically fell against the wall in shock, her jaw somewhere between her shoes, Logan smirked a little more and then grabbing Max's hand, walked down the hallway.  
  
In the judge's chambers, the scene wasn't as pleasant. Janna sat back down, her face stony. Antonio thought of Max's words that Janna was going to slap him around first and realized she wasn't referring to a physical confrontation. "Janna, I have been trying to get to you to tell you that I had no idea what my mother and Marco were planning," he opened.  
  
Her reply was more icy silence. Why did she have to be so stubborn, Antonio thought. He sighed. Because if she wasn't, she wouldn't be half as interesting. He knelt down in front of her and touched her arm, only to have her jerk back. "What can I do to convince you?"  
  
"Go to hell."  
  
"I have been there. I learned a great deal about what hell is like these last few days."  
  
Janna finally looked at him directly. "What do you want?" she hissed.  
  
"You."  
  
She shook her head. "No. You had me. And then you ditched me. Let me guess, you found out who my parents are and don't want to lose out on that opportunity."  
  
"Your family has money," Antonio said, frustrated. "Congratulations. So does mine. We share more in common than I thought before. And I didn't know until I met your parents earlier. I assumed quite the opposite when I handed you that necklace and asked you to return it to me."  
  
"So you'd set up a poor kid but not a rich one, huh?" she asked bitterly.  
  
Antonio stood, pacing, his frustration with her obvious. Finally he went back to the chair, grabbing the armrests and leaning over her. "I want you to tell me exactly when I ever indicated that I gave a damn about money? I cared about the necklace because of what it represented to my family. I thought you understood that. I told you at the estate that I admired your elegance. That has nothing to do with money. You have a natural classiness. You seemed like you understood what I meant when I said it then."  
  
"I thought you were saying a lot of things," she said quickly, fighting back the tears that were threatening to overwhelm her. "I don't know why you went through all that you did just to set me up, but..."she had to break off her words and look away.  
  
Antonio gently touched her chin, tilting her head back so that she was facing him. "You're right," he said softly. "It doesn't make sense to go through all of that just to set someone up. And this isn't about money or who has what. I know what you have. My heart." He paused for a second, gathering the courage to say what he had never said in his adult life to a woman.  
  
"I love you, Janna."  
  
Janna couldn't help a small sob as she pulled back from him. "No," she cried. "You're not allowed to say that. You're not allowed to pull that on me. You don't know me. You can't say that because you can't mean it."  
  
"Don't you dare tell me what I mean," Antonio snapped back her. "I know the hell I have been through because of you. And it has nothing to do with some shiny rocks and metal. I have told myself a hundred times that this was impossible, but that doesn't matter. I know what I feel when I see you. I know what I felt when you came back to Italy. I love you, Janna Jacqueline. I want you to be with me forever. Not because your family is wealthy and powerful. Because I love you. Not your family. They're rather scary. Not your money. You."  
  
Tears were flowing freely down Janna's face now. "That's too bad," she squeaked. "'Cause I hate you."  
  
Antonio smiled. "If that was true, then it wouldn't have hurt you so much to think that I betrayed you. I did not, Janna. And if you ask yourself what you really believe, you will know that I am telling the truth."  
  
For a moment, the speed of her movement could have rivaled any of her cousins. One minute Antonio was crouched in front of her while Janna was pulled back as far from him as possible, the next she practically knocked him over as she jumped forward, her arms wrapping around his neck, their lips meeting in a spellbinding kiss.  
  
"I am going to make you miserable for what you did to me," Janna warned him when they finally pulled apart. She vaguely realized they were on the floor, but that didn't matter feeling her body intertwined with his.  
  
He grinned. "Isn't that the point of being married? To have that one special person that you make miserable for the rest of their life?"  
  
Janna gasped and then realized he was teasing her. She grinned and picked up a British accent. "That and huge tracts of land." Antonio caught the Monty Python reference and laughed with her. "You never really asked," she said softy when the laughter died.  
  
"You never really said it back."  
  
Janna groaned, her forehead touching his. "Is this the way it's always going to be?"  
  
Antonio thought for a second and then kissed her until she was practically melting into him. "And like this too."  
  
"As long as the making up is sweet, I think I can deal." Janna caressed his face softly. "I love you too." She leaned over, letting her lips brush against his again, their arms tightening against each other, pulling closer and closer.  
  
A polite cough from the door startled them, making them jump apart. Janna couldn't help blushing hotly as the judge stood in the door, smiling bemusedly at them. "I see the two of you have worked things out," he commented, enjoying the embarrassment of the two young people.  
  
"One more detail," Antonio said and then pulled Janna back down to him. "Marry me," he whispered. "I wasted half my life looking for you. I don't want to waste one more day."  
  
Janna smiled, biting her lip with excitement. "Do I get to kick Marco's ass?"  
  
"Every day, my love. And twice on Sundays."  
  
"Now how's a girl supposed to get a better offer than that?" She smiled, their eyes meeting with such perfect contentment that there was no more room for doubt. "I would love to marry you."  
  
"Then perhaps," the judge said, "you should hurry up. My court is quite busy today as is. If you walked out of here as the legal owner of what you are accused of stealing, then the charges must be dropped."  
  
Antonio and Janna looked at each other. Now? It was crazy. It was stupid. But when their eyes met they knew one thing over and above all. It was right. 


	38. Epilogue

Soft mist wound its way out of the trees and across the estate's wide lawns. It rolled and moved seeming to coalesce into shapes before disappearing again into the general whiteness. Soft and beautiful, dancing around trees and shrubs, peeking around columns like lovers playing hide and go seek.  
  
Somewhere in the mansion itself a window or two must have been left open. The mist wound through, a playful child running down beloved hallways that it knew so well. Past the conte's suite where he slept with his new young contessa curled up in his arms, a new generation waiting in the wings for those two to bring forth. Quickly now, on padded feet. Past Lina's suite, the poor dowager contessa who had taken a small vacation to her beloved resort to get away from all of the stress. The vacation was helping her attitude towards her new daughter-in-law. All of her friends were congratulating her on her son's capture of the only daughter and heiress of the Cale fortunes. His forays into American business and politics were now well assured. Past where Luisa was still awake, her head snapping up and looking around as if a visitor had stepped into her room unannounced. Her diary lay open on her desk where but a few pages before she was bemoaning the fact that her brother had married into a family of beauties, yet there was not one young woman in it that was of her own persuasion. This night she was excitedly writing about a young woman in the same dance company as Janna's cousin. Taylor had done a performance in Rome that they had attended and Luisa had been introduced to Rochelle there. One look had passed between the two women and it had nearly set the room ablaze. Luisa was now confiding to her diary all of the delights that having a limber graceful lover with incredible stamina could provide.  
  
Down hallways and swirling into empty rooms. Finally the jewel room where for centuries a single necklace had said so much about the family's history and origins. If one were very tired and of a fanciful mind, one might have sworn that they had seen the mist change itself again, this time shaping itself into a lovely human hand, small and delicate, reaching out to touch the glass that covered the new arrival to the family. The twin that now rested on black velvet beside the original. Its journey had taken centuries, but it was finally where it had been meant to be after all those years.  
  
Quickly now. Flying down the great marble steps and through the ballroom. No pause to admire the paintings of generations of di LiCossa family members. Quickly, quickly. And then out onto the wide expanse of lawn where the mist was delicately rolling across in swirls and loops.  
  
Had the guard at the gatehouse been an imaginative man, he might have been able to see the shapes in the mist and been amused by them. Instead he sat there sullenly, reading a magazine, never seeing what a person with imagination might have. He might have looked up into the dense whiteness and perhaps been amused with a fanciful thought. He might have seen in the mist different shapes. And one of the shapes was definitely that of a woman crossing the yard, racing towards the woods. Where, if one were so of a mind to make up things, one might see in the fog a shape of a young man, and of course, he was smiling at her welcome. The two patches of fog joined, blending together, swirling about until there was no way to ever tell that there had been two separate patches to begin with. There was no mistaking the joy in the reunion and that peace had finally been made.  
  
But then again, perhaps it was just the mist.  
  
THE END  
  
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And that's all folks!!!  
  
Well, except for the fifth and final X-6 that will be coming out in a few weeks. But, thank you to everyone who has hung in there along the way and reviewed. Many special thanks to Kat and Jasmine for all of the late nights listening to me trying to plot out chapters that weren't coming and ending up being late for class because I just needed them to spend just a minute looking over the chapter and making sure it didn't suck before I posted it.  
  
And to answer the question before it's asked, expect the first chapter of J & J 8 to be released within the next week or so. Until then, farewell and enjoy the re-reads. 


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